


Cinderlock

by MoonShineD, StraightShooter (MsLadySmith)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Fabulously Gay Greg Lestrade, Fairy Tale Retellings, Greg's a Silver Fox, John's a Hedgehog, M/M, Mycroft Being a Bastard, Mycroft's a Red Ferret, Sherlock's a Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShineD/pseuds/MoonShineD, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/StraightShooter
Summary: A role-play chat, recreating the classic fairy tale Cinderella starring our favorite boys.Cast of CharactersGreg.............MoonShineDJohn.............MoonShineDSherlock.......StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)Mycroft.........StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)John's Mum...StraightShooter(MsLadySmith)Harry Watson....MoonShineD





	1. Chapter 1

**Greg**

"Hello?? Delivery. Anyone Home?" I try to make a point to drop off all deliveries to the Holmes house myself. It's mostly to say to my friend Sherlock, but catching a peek at his brother definitely doesn't hurt. "De-LIVE-er-Y."

**Mycroft**

"Sherlock, there's someone at the door." I call out to my brother.

**Sherlock**

I try not to roll my eyes as I put down the pot I've been scrubbing. Grabbing a towel to dry my hands, I walk through the living room, past my brother, and open the door. "Hello, Greg. How are you?"

**Greg**

"Better than you. What is that on your hands?" I make my way inside and straight to Mycroft. "Mycie! I've brought your mask. Some of my best work if you ask me." I set the box on the corner of his desk near me.

**Mycroft**

"It's about time. And for what I paid for it, I should hope it's your best work." I scowl at Greg's overly-cheery demeanor. "You may leave now." I wave him off.

**Sherlock**

I nudge Greg's arm and direct him back to the kitchen where we can chat. "Don't mind him. I burned the last batch of biscuits I made, and he's been grumpy about it for days."

**Greg**

"Nah. It's cute when he gets all.... All.... Mycrofty." Yep. New word. Mycrofty. "What about you? Did you make your own mask?" I grab a biscuit off the tray. "These aren't burnt! Goofy boy." I ruffle his hair in a way I know he would only accept from me.

**Sherlock**

I smack his hand. "Of course not - those are mine." I giggle. "He hasn't found them yet." I look at Greg curiously. "What would I make a mask for?"

**Greg**

I shove one in my pocket for later. "For the Mask Ball duh. Everyone's going. Open to the public. It's why I've been so busy I couldn't visit these last few months."

**Sherlock**

I frown at him. "Hadn't heard about it. I suppose my _dear brother_ was supposed to tell me..." My voice is fairly dripping with sarcasm. "When is it?"

**Greg**

My jaw drops as Lock says he knows nothing about this. Nothing! "Have you been under a rock for the last three months?? Everyone's talking ‘bout it. It's tomorrow afternoon. How could you not know?" Mycroft! "I'm gonna go give him a piece of my mind. That bloody wanker. I'll take back the mask and return the money."

**Sherlock**

"Don't do that!" I hiss at him. "He's already insufferable - you'll just make him worse." I shrug. "I haven't been out of the house except for running to the market once a week while he's asleep in the afternoon, and then, I don't have time for the local gossip and chatter." I consider for a moment. "You know, if I work all night, I might be able to finish what I need to get done by tomorrow afternoon. Any chance you can make one more mask? I'm sure I can find a way to pay you for it..."

**Greg**

I wiggle my eye brows at him. "Anything?" I can't hold my sexy face long before I burst out laughing. "Nah. I don't need your money." I lean in to whisper to him. "I over charged your brother. Made him pay an annoyance fee." This was my last delivery of the day and I don't know if i have time to make another one... Crap. Wait! "I got it! I have one mask left. Couldn't sell it. It's not bad at all. If anyone could pull it off it'll be you."

**Sherlock**

"Great! Can you bring it to me tomorrow before you go to the Ball?" Now I have to come up with something to wear...

**Greg**

"Yeah, sure. I think I even got a jacket and slippers to match. I'll drop everything off in the morning. But..."

**Sherlock**

"But what?" I ask, concerned by the look on his face.

**Greg**

I slowly make my way to him and make a show of walking my fingers up his arm to his neck. "I want... I want one thing. One itty bitty thing."

**Sherlock**

Uh oh. "What, Greg? For the last time, I'm not going out with you..."

**Greg**

"Ha! Dear Gods No! You're not the Holmes I'm going to bed." I walk my fingers down his arm to the tray of biscuits. "Besides I said itty bitty thing and I've seen you naked while swimming. It's not itty or bitty."

**Sherlock**

I shudder. "Ew. You want me to set you up with my brother? Ew."

**Greg**

"Nah. I'll take care of that Princess myself." I finally take pity on him and eye the biscuits wantonly. "A few of those would go a long ways. You always make the best sweets."

**Sherlock**

"All right. Just don't tell him where you got them, OK? Like I need one more chore on my list..." I gather several biscuits into a small bag and hand it to him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, his highness out there expects me to finish these dishes before I cook him dinner." I sigh hopelessly.

**Greg**

I give him a big wet kiss on both cheeks. "Love you too Locky." I saunter back into the living room with my sweet gains hidden under my vest. "Mycie, Mycie, Mycie. Always working. Do you ever play?" I see that the box hasn't even been touched. "Go on. Open it. Try it on. Just like all my masks it will only fit one person."

**Sherlock**

I return to scrubbing the pot I was working on, glancing over my shoulder to see my brother trying on his custom-made, one-of-a-kind mask. A red ferret. _Fitting_ I think to myself. _Ginger and a weasel, just like him._ Grumbling, I turn my attention to cooking dinner as Greg attempts to sweet-talk my brother.

**Sherlock**

I took Mycroft's meal to him, setting the plate on the table in front of him.

**Mycroft**

I look at what my brother is claiming to be food on my plate. "What's that?" I wrinkle my nose.

**Sherlock**

"Quiche Lorraine. You like all the ingredients."

**Mycroft**

"Looks odd." I take a tentative bite. I nod curtly. "Tastes decent, though."

**Sherlock**

I stop my eye roll before I get glared at, and turn to return to the kitchen for my own meal. I stop and look at him. "So you're going to the Mask Ball tomorrow?"

**Mycroft**

I drop my fork. "Where did you hear about that? I bet it was Greg, that snitching bastard..." I mumble under my breath. "Yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

**Sherlock**

"Funny I didn't get an invitation..."

**Mycroft**

"You'll be busy anyway. Besides, you'll be able to get so much more done in my absence. I've left you a list of some extra things you can take care of while I'm away..."

**Sherlock**

_Well, damn... this is going to be harder to pull off than I thought._


	2. Chapter 2

**Sherlock**

I haven't slept, spending the nighttime hours letting out the waist on several pairs of Mycroft's trousers. _"No, Mycroft, of course you're not gaining weight..."_ I huff to myself. After cleaning up the breakfast dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, I've just started sweeping the main room, when there's a knock at the door.

**Greg**

"Locky, my boy. I've come bearing gifts." I hand him a garment bag, slippers, and the box with The Mask. "Open it! Open it!!" I grab his broom and start dancing my way around the living room managing to sweep as I go.

**Sherlock**

I open the box and take out the mask, holding it up. "What is it? I mean, obviously some sort of bird, right?"

**Greg**

I put my hand over my heart and dramatically flop down on the couch. "A bird? A bird he says! Oh my wounded heart." I get up and walk over to put the jacket around his shoulders. "It's a Phoenix. You know the story, yeah?"

**\---tag for this fic Fabulously Gay Greg**

\---MycTheWeasel

\--FairyGregFather

**Sherlock**

"The Phoenix... from the ancient Greeks. A long-lived bird that is reborn from the ashes of its predecessor. Yes, I am familiar with it."

**Greg**

"Couldn't be more fitting for you." I drop into a very serious demeanor. "You're a good man, Sherlock. One day you might even be a great one. But not if you stay here. You need to get out, see the world, fall in lust, maybe even fall in love." I put both my hands on his shoulders, so he knows what I'm saying is important. "You’ve been burned enough, my dear sweet Sherlock, now it's time to fly." That's enough seriousness for now. "Go. Change. I'll get this room clean."

**Sherlock**

"Thank you, my friend. For everything." I give him an awkward hug, then gather everything up and head to my room to change. A few minutes later, I come out, fully dressed in the outfit he has so generously provided. "Well?" I do a slow twirl in the middle of the room. "What do you think?"

**Greg**

"Bloody gorgeous mate." The colors accent his pale cream complexion perfectly. The jacket, which some gent left at my shop, after hours mind you, fits like a glove. "More important. What do you think?"

**Sherlock**

I sneak into my brother's room to take a look for myself in his full-length mirror. The mask is blood red, with enough black around the edges to blend very nicely with my curls. The jacket is a plain black - which is good, because the only dress trousers I have are plain black, too. And the shirt... damn, that red silk is a perfect match for the mask. It fits snugly, but not unpleasantly so. I brush over suit as I turn in the mirror, looking at myself from every possible angle. I jump when Greg appears next to me - I hadn't heard him come in.

**Greg**

"If I didn't know what a dick you are, I would be hitting on you. As it is I have the most beautiful date of anyone else there." I knock his shoulder playfully. "Your date isn't too shabby himself." The living room was clean, and all the supplies put away. "Come on now. Need to get going. Have to walk to my shop to get our ride."

**Sherlock**

"So, I'm going as your plus one?" I grin at him. "I'm not inviting you to my place for drinks after..."

**Greg**

"If I were to come back here for drinks it wouldn't be with you dear one." I chuckle at his disgusted face. "Come on." It takes only a few moments to walk to the shop and pick up my car. All eyes are on us when we get out of my brand new 68 Corvette Hard Top Convertible.

**Sherlock**

I look around nervously at the crowd as we join the queue. I stick close to Greg's side, since his invitation is my only way in. "I need to make sure I get home well before my brother. I told me not to expect him before 1am, so if you can drive me home around midnight, that should give me plenty of time."

**Greg**

"Uh huh yeah sure. Check out Lord Watson! The boy is hot!" Lord Watson just returned from combat in Afghanistan after being wounded in battle. It was in his honor that this Masked Ball was happening. And, if he were to find a suitable spouse, I'm sure his parents would be quite pleased.

**Sherlock**

I turn to look where Greg is pointing, and my whole world comes to a crashing halt. _That man... he's..._ I start thinking to myself when he looks up and his eyes bore right into my soul.

**Greg**

I watch as the cool, calm, collected young man I know becomes a puddle of instant infatuation. I push him towards Lord Watson and step away once we've finished the queue.

**Sherlock**

I move along with the crowd, and eventually find myself almost within arms reach of that gorgeous specimen of manhood. Suddenly, I'm jolted back into reality when I see a tall man wearing a red ferret mask shaking Lord Watson's hand, leaning in to say something in his ear which makes what's visible of his cheeks turn a vibrant pink.

**John**

"Yes, thank you, no. Do you know who that man is? The one in the Phoenix mask?"

**Mycroft**

I barely glance in that direction. "No. But I would love to chat with you about your time in Afghanistan." I try to take his arm and lead him out of the crowd.

**John**

"It was hot and dry. Nothing interesting." I pull my hand back to cover a faked cough. "Speaking of dry... Would you please get me something to drink."

**Mycroft**

"Certainly, your highness." I turn quickly and push my way through the crowd toward the punch bowl.

**John**

I walk up towards the man in black and red. "Hello. Hi. Umm. Wow bad impression." I wipe the back of my neck with my handkerchief.

**Sherlock**

I freeze for a moment. "Hello, your Highness." I bow politely. "Seems you've thrown a popular party." I look around the crowd, partly to distract myself and partly to make sure I know where my brother is. I'm sure he'll recognize me and make a horrible scene if he finds me here.

**John**

'Oh don't blame me for this. I would've been quite happy with some brews down at the pub. But this is what Mum wanted." As I tell him this I begin to think just how stupid I'm being. "If you like parties... Do you like parties?"

**Sherlock**

"I confess, I haven't had a chance to attend many. Not a huge fan of crowds, it seems, though." With so many people there can't possibly be enough air in this room, and I'm feeling unnaturally warm. "Perhaps we can step onto the balcony for some air?"

**John**

I look around for the easiest exit. As I do I see the man in the red ferret mask being chatted up by another in a silver fox one. I would like to get that bloke’s name later so I can send him a thank you basket. "Right this way." I now slightly before I turn around somehow managing to get outside without being seen or forced to talk to anyone.

**Sherlock**

The cool night air is a huge improvement. "Thank you, your Highness. It was beginning to get stiflingly warm in there." I take a deep breath. "So why is your mum throwing this party for you, if you don't like parties?"

**John**

"John. Call me John. And you are...?" I take my mask off for a moment and use it as a make shift fan.

**Sherlock**

"I thought we were supposed to be anonymous? Hence the masks." I smile at him. "Wouldn't want to ruin your mother's plans for the evening, after all."

**John**

"Shall I put my mask back on and we pretend there is another man my height that is also referred to as Highness?" I put the hedgehog mask that my sister had commissioned for me back on. "At least call me John. Please?'

**Sherlock**

"I will call you John, when no one can hear me, at least. You can call me... William."

**John**

"William. I like it. Basic, sweet, and not at all pompous like my middle name." I look around trying to come up with something to say that doesn't make me look like the complete fool I am. "I'm a Doctor too. I mean not that you're a Doctor—you could be, but I wouldn't know. I mean like I'm a Doctor as well as being a Soldier." I'm grateful that the stupid mask has one good use, hiding my blush. "I'm an idiot."

**Sherlock**

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who's nervous." I chuckle. "So now that you've been discharged from the Army, are you planning to go into private practice? As a Doctor, I mean."

**John**

I rub at my shoulder just thinking about it. "No. Can't. Got injured and no one wants a Doctor with shaky hands and a limp."

**Sherlock**

"Oh. I'm sorry." I consider for a moment. "Where were you injured, if you don't mind my asking?"

**John**

"In Afghanistan. IED. Took down most my men. I survived." I rarely speak of those days and don't want to now either.

**Sherlock**

I bite my lip to keep from giggling, which would be wholly inappropriate given the current topic. "I noticed you're rubbing your shoulder, yet you complain of a limp and walk with a cane. Your limp is psychosomatic, of course. And right now, your hands are perfectly steady - likely because you're under pressure, trying to impress..." _not me_ "... everyone."

**John**

"Did someone tell you that?" He and my therapist would get along fabulously. Maybe he should go next time.

**Sherlock**

"No. It's easy to see... plain as the ... mask ... on your face." I give him a sly grin.

**John**

"Cute. So not some tabloid? You sure?" It's tantalizing how I can see his mouth and color of his eyes and nothing else. I want to see all of it but not if he's some tabloid nutter fanboy.

**Sherlock**

"Pfft. Those rags? Hard worth the time to get them, let alone read them." I lean against the railing and look up at the night sky for a moment.

**John**

"What else do you see, William?" I lean my elbow on the railing and look up at him.

**Sherlock**

"I can never remember most of the constellations. I can usually find the Big Dipper, but that's about it." I look down to find his ocean blue eyes staring up at me. My mouth is still moving, but no words are coming out.

**John**

I look up at the stars but all I see is a different configuration that what I saw for the last six years. "I, uhh, I meant, what else do you see about me?"

**Sherlock**

I get lost in his eyes for a moment, then clear my throat. "You never did tell me - why is your mother throwing this party if you dislike parties so much?"

**John**

"Mum seems to be convinced I won't be happy til I marry. Sis, because she's mean when she wants to be, suggested a Masquerade since I don't care about looks anyways. The problem is everyone knows who I am but I don't know how anyone is. With or without a mask." My leg starts to twitch and I rub at my thigh. "I've never been a fan of crowds. Or noise. Or noisy crowds."

I look at the crowd milling about inside. "Perhaps we could go for a walk? I have heard wonderful things about the castle gardens. We could watch the sunset..."


	3. Chapter 3

**John**

"Are you trying to hit on me, Mr. Phoenix?" His head cocks to one side as if he’s confused. "Harry would ask all the girls she liked if they wanted to watch the Sunset in The Gardens."

**Sherlock**

"On the contrary. I'm trying to help you avoid the crowd. I admit, though, that I'd like to chat with you more, if you're interested." Thank God he can't see that my face is nearly as crimson as my mask.

**John**

I look back in at the crowd that has swelled even more in the last few moments. "First we need to plan an escape route."

**Sherlock**

"Meet me by the fountain in, say, 20 minutes?" I nod to the fountain, just visible over the hedges from our vantage point.

**John**

"It might take me a few more min---" Of course, I'm talking to dead air. I make my way inside and off towards the left before I am accosted by the Red Ferret again.

**Mycroft**

"Your Highness! There you are! I got your drink, but when I'd turned around, you'd vanished." I hand him a glass of champagne. "Where did you run off to?"

**John**

“Don’t know what you mean. Been here the whole time." I gulp down the champagne. "Except for when a Miss Smallwood needed to speak about some security matter." I hand him back the flute. "Which reminds me that I promised her I would go check on something. Security wise. For Security." I make a mad dash for the rarely used tea room and the hidden staircase it has.

**Mycroft**

I stare blankly at the empty champagne glass, and my eyes follow him as he walks away rather quickly. I shrug and set the glass down on a nearby table and head toward the dessert table.

**Sherlock**

I was able to slip around the edges of the crowd, largely ignored, as no one had an idea who I might be. I grabbed two flutes of champagne from a young waiter's tray, and slipped unseen into the back hall, heading through the double doors toward the garden. I walked quietly to the fountain, and took a seat on a nearby bench to wait.

**John**

After a few briefs hellos and a quick wash up, I finally had the fountain in sight. My watch said twenty-four minutes had passed.

**Sherlock**

I look at my watch nervously. _Maybe he isn't going to show up... he wouldn't be interested in someone like me..._ I look forlornly at the two glasses of champagne, torn between drinking them both or pouring them out.

**John**

"One of those for me?" I am more relieved that he is here than I thought I would be.

**Sherlock**

I jump up off the bench. _What is it with people sneaking up on me today?_ "Y-yes. I thought you could use a drink." _I know I can use one_

**John**

"I could use a few." I take the flute and a sip. "Thank you, William."

**Sherlock**

"To peace and quiet in the middle of chaos." I raise my glass with a nod, and take a long sip myself. I return to my seat on the bench, and motion for him to join me.

**John**

I sit next to him and look for any signs or clues as to who he could be. "Tell me something about you?"

**Sherlock**

"I like to read, when I have time. Usually late at night when my... family is asleep, so I'm not bothered." _Let's not mention my brother, idiot_ "I like to solve puzzles, but I rarely have time anymore.”

**John**

He's a smart one. "What type of puzzles? Picture, word, logic?"

**Sherlock**

"Oh, logic puzzles." My eyes light up at the thought, then dim again - my pain-in-the-arse brother keeps me so busy I barely have the time or energy to do anything for myself. "Do you like puzzles?"

**John**

"Yeah, I like puzzles. Most Doctors like a good puzzle." I finish the last of the Champaign and set the empty glass on the ground. "But I'm not a Doctor anymore..." I hear distant chatter getting closer. "We should either move or be ready for visitors in about thirty seconds."

**Sherlock**

On impulse, I grab his hand and dive behind the brush on the other side of the fountain. Just as we are adequately concealed, I see my brother, being lead to the bench where we were just sitting... by Greg.

**John**

"Wha--" Before I have a chance to say or do anything he has us pulled in between two bushes. Somehow I end up with the bony git on top of me.

**Greg**

"I'm done playing, Mycroft Holmes." I sit on the bench near the fountain with my arms crossed.

**Mycroft**

"Whatever do you mean, Gregory?" I scold him.

**Greg**

"Don't take that tone with me, Mycie. I saw what I saw." I pull my fox mask off for a moment and run my hand through my hair. "I saw what I saw."

**Mycroft**

"I was just flirting with him. It was harmless." _But damn, that man in the blue feathered mask had an adorable little arse._

**Greg**

"It's always harmless when -you- do it." I grab a smoke from the pack in my jacket and blow smoke rings into the darkening sky. "There's a different set of rules for you than the ones for me."

**Mycroft**

"It's the nature of my job and you know it. Sometimes the wheels of diplomacy need to be greased..."

**Greg**

"Is that what you were doing? Greasing his wheels? Looked more like patting his arse from my view." __it really was a nice arse__

**Mycroft**

I roll my eyes dramatically. "Don't be ridiculous, Gregory. It's not like I was going home with him..."

**Greg**

"Because I showed up when I did. Ruined your game plan." Myc looks at my cigarette so I take another puff and blow it out dramatically.

**Mycroft**

As soon as the cigarette leaves his lips, I take it from him and take a long drag before handing it back, blowing several perfect smoke rings into the sky. "My game plan did not include going home with him. I had someone else in mind."

**Greg**

"Really? Then you must be playing a different game." I put out the fag in the ashtray near the bench. "Cause if -I- wanted to take someone home with me..." I put an arm around his neck and bring him in close to hear me whisper. "I would make more of an effort to grease the wheels I want to be riding later." I take a step back, put on my mask, smack his arse and head back towards the party.

**Mycroft**

"Get back here, you rogue." I jump to my feet and chase after him, just putting my arm around his waist as he opens the patio door.

**Sherlock**

When I hear the door close, I let out the laugh I've been stifling. I start to get to my feet, but John holds me back.

**John**

"What the bloody Hell was that? Why did you make us hide? Who was that? Why are you laughing?" His attempts at getting up are punctuated by jabs to various body parts but I can't stop giggling. "Why am I laughing?"

**Sherlock**

"Sorry, John." I reach under my mask carefully to wipe away the tears of laughter. "I know the silver fox - he brought me this evening, in fact. I've never thought him the jealous type." I lie.

**John**

I help him get off me without further injury to either if us. "Oh, well I guess you'll want to follow him... The one who brought you here... Your date." I brush leaves and dirt off my backside. William is still quite clean since he was on me instead of the dirt.

**Sherlock**

"Oh, he's not my date." I reply quickly. "Just a friend. I'm single... I mean, I don't have a date... ever."

**John**

"Oh. I see. Good for you then. Avoiding all that nonsensical dating stuff. Celibacy is a valiant virtue... Or so I've been told." Smart? Check. Funny? Think so. Doesn't date? That might be the deal breaker.

**Sherlock**

"It's not that I don't want to... just haven't met the right person, I guess." I shrug. "And my... family makes it difficult."

**John**

"You don't date because of your family? They can't be worse than mine. What do they do?" _What obstacles will I have to avoid?_ As I ask my question he visibly deflates.

**Sherlock**

I shuffle my feet, visibly uncomfortable with the question. Without a word, I take his hand and lead him back to the bench so we can sit. "I don't want to talk about hi... I mean, them." _Oops_ "I just don't have a lot of free time, is all."

**John**

He doesn't let go of my hand and I make no move to pull it away. "Then you should get back in and enjoy the party. Make the most of your freedoms tonight."

**Sherlock**

"I am enjoying the party." My voice is hardly more than a whisper as I look into his eyes.

**John**

"It's better than I could have ever hoped for." My thumb rubs the back of his hand lightly. "But you know what would make it better? Food. And beer, no more of that Champaign stuff. You hungry?"

**Sherlock**

I watch his thumb smoothing over the back of my hand, then realize he's stopped talking. "What? Hungry? Yes, definitely. What do you have in mind?" I can't imagine we're going to take off for the nearest pub...

**John**

"Come along then." Without letting go of his hand I lead him down the trail to the Gardener's shed. "There's a little bit of everything in here. Including a fridge with snacks and beer." I open one for him but just before he grabs it I pull it back a bit and smile. "Uh uh. How do I know you're 18?"

**Sherlock**

"An interesting problem. If I were a minor, I wouldn't likely have pointed out the adult who brought me here, allowing me to partake of champagne and other spirits, would I? Law enforcement never looks kindly on someone who contributes to the delinquency of a minor, after all." I smile back him. "But, if that doesn't convince you, you'll just have to take my word for it." I put my hand out for the beer.

**John**

"Brilliant.  I could use it to my advantage. Accept a felony charge but get to know who you are. Decisions, decisions." I have an inkling there's more than a few family quirks that has him so adamant I find out nothing about him.

**Sherlock**

I sigh dramatically. "I'm 22, if you must know. Now may I PLEASE have a beer?"

**John**

"My pleasure Sir." I grab one for myself and a bag of crisps off the counter.

**Sherlock**

"Thank you, sir." I reply with a smile, taking the beer and a peach off the counter.

**John**

Before I have a chance to offer my knife he has already taken a huge bite of the peach. Beer spills down my chin when the lip of the bottle misses the lip of my mouth.

**Sherlock**

I slip the mask up slightly so I can take a big bite of the peach, only to realize how juicy it is. I quickly take out a handkerchief to keep the juice from ruining the shirt Greg loaned me.

**John**

"Knife?" I hand him the only somewhat ornamental dagger at my side.  "It would be easier to eat without a mask."

**Sherlock**

"Mmm, no, I can manage." I slurp the peach noisily.

**John**

_sure, -he- can manage_ "Uh huh. Let me know if you change your shirt-- er I mean mind. Let me know if you change your mind."

**Sherlock**

I wipe away some of the juice running down my chin. "This is just a very ripe peach - excellent flavor, too." I smile.

**John**

"Yeah. Huh. I'll tell the gardener you like her peaches." Lorry will be overjoyed that the only thing that got wet and juicy in her shack was a peach. "I can send you home with a whole mess of them if you'd like. Or have them sent to your house."

**Sherlock**

My eyes light up at the thought. "Really? I would love to take some home with me... I bet these would make a fantastic peach tart."

**John**

"Yeah. You can have as many as you want. Make tarts. Or pies. Or Sorbet. Or whatever you want." I get lost in my own fantasy of William being covered in peach pie filling. Long thin slices sliding off his body slowly. Cool whipped cream being devoured the moment it's placed. His naked body on an alter out in the orchard where I could watch him ripen in the Sun. "I'm sorry? Did you say something?"

**Sherlock**

"Thanks so much, John!" I consider for a moment. "Maybe I can have one delivered to you, too. I'm told my baking is very good." _except by my brother, but I tend to burn his baked goods on purpose_ "I'm sure you'd enjoy it."

**John**

"Will you bring it to me yourself?" As he finishes the first peach I hand him another.

**Sherlock**

I smile at him a little. "Now how would I maintain anonymity if I did that?" I reply with a chuckle.

**John**

"Why must you keep your anonymity?" With his mask askew I can see just the hint of his smile.

**Sherlock**

"Isn't that the whole point of this party? For you to be able to get to know people for who they are, not what they look like?"

**John**

"Ok. Then tell me more about who you are." I head over to the rubbish sink to rinse my hands off and grab a towel for William.

**Sherlock**

"These peaches are divine, but I really should wash some of this juice off." I carefully slip off my jacket and roll up my sleeves as I follow John over to the sink, rinsing off my hands. "Do you dance?"

**John**

"Not well. You?" I pick up his jacket after handing him a towel. I hold his coat open for him to slip back in to. "Impressive skill that. Washing up without the mask slipping even a bit."

**Sherlock**

"Just luck, believe me." I laugh. "I love to dance. I used to take lessons when... when I was younger" _before Mycroft took over, and my life became hell_ "I could teach you. Let's go inside."

**John**

I smile when he reaches for my hand. "You'll have to do all the work. I promise to try not to break any of your toes." Too quickly the Estate is back in sight and we are entering the main Ball Room.

**Sherlock**

"Just follow my lead" I grin as I take his hand and put my other hand on his waist. Soon we are waltzing around the room fairly comfortably.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, John's Mum is portrayed by MoonShineD

**John**

I'm dancing and having a good time. This is new. I nod to Mum, Sis, and a few business associates as I pass. Everyone is looking at my escort. "You never did tell me more about you. What do you do? How long have you lived here?"

**Sherlock**

"I've lived here all my life." I reply. "Since my parents died, it's just been... well, my brother and I." _Lots of people have brothers, right?_ "I spend most of my time at home now."

**John**

"Reading?" I step on his toe, again, but he hasn't yelled at me once.

**Sherlock**

"And solving puzzles." I smile. _And waiting on my brother hand and foot_. "Believe me, I keep very busy."

**John**

"You've mentioned puzzles but not very specific." We manage to do a full count without me stepping on any part of his anatomy or my own.

**Sherlock**

"I told you before, I like to solve logic puzzles." _People used to bring me puzzles to solve, before my brother started chasing them away_ "So what do you do to relax, John?"

**John**

"I don't. Relax that is. Or I try not to. I help with the orchard, take care of the horses when needed, just try to keep busy." Mum waves me over so I guide William her direction.

**Sherlock**

I look up, startled, as John st arts to direct me to a short blonde woman with an extravagant white-feathered mask. "Dare I ask who I am about to meet?" I whisper to him.

**John**

I smile in response. "Her Highness, Lady Dove of Watson." I kiss her hand and bring her attention to my partner. "Meet William... Of the... Phoenix?"

**Sherlock**

I take a shaky breath and bow to the lady. "I am most honoured to meet you, Madame. This gala is a wonderful event." I smile nervously at John.

**John's Mum**

I acknowledge the young man in the phoenix mask. "I'm glad you are enjoying your evening, William. And obviously my boy enjoys your company." It didn't escape my notice that John has not danced with anyone else tonight.

**John**

"Yes. Mum. He's actually quite good. I haven't fallen once." I grab some flutes from a passing waiter and dispense us each a drink.

**John's Mum**

"So I've noticed. I don't think I've ever seen you dance so well, John," I take the champagne flute from John and take a sip.

**Sherlock**

"John is actually a very good dancer, Madame. He just needs to relax into the music more."

**John's Mum**

"I'm sure John has told you, he's not very good at relaxing, in any form." I smile at the young man. "Now if you two will excuse me, Lord Thomson has requested an audience with me..." I nod to the two of them and swept elegantly across the room.

**Harry**

"Couldn't help but overhear..." I grab Johns flute and gulp it down. "John’s a rubbish dancer. Has three left feet. You though, seem to have a knack for it. Dance much?"

**Sherlock**

I look at John, slightly confused. "I haven't in some time, Miss... " I look at her questioningly.

**Harry**

"Harry. Harriette Watson. And you are...?"

**John**

"That's enough Harry. Enough badgering and enough drinking." I try to apologize with my eyes. "So sorry William."

**Sherlock**

I nod to her with a smile and let John pull me away from her, as she runs after their mother, with another young woman in tow. "Charming girl... does she always drink that much?" I ask him when we've reached a quiet corner of the room.

**John**

"No. Sometimes she drinks more or makes a total arse of herself." Finally a waiter with food passes by. "I'll take that thank you."

**Waiter (MoonShineD)**

"The whole tray? Maybe I can get you a plate or something?"

**John**

"Nope. This is good. Ta."

**Sherlock**

I laugh as he relieves the waiter of the tray, and we head down a quiet hallway, finally taking a seat in a small parlour. We both help ourselves to a few finger sandwiches.

**John**

"I worked up an appetite." I rack my brain for any questions I could ask and he might actually answer. "We have apples too. And bee hives."

**Sherlock**

My eyes light up again. "Bee hives? Really?" _This man knows all the right things to say._ "I would love to see them sometime. There's nothing better than fresh honey..." I say dreamily. I can just imagine licking honey off his fingers...

**John**

"I could kip some from the kitchen if you want. Add it to the peaches." Score a point for Watson rambling. It paid off. "If it wasn't dark I would show you them. Maybe tomorrow..."

**Sherlock**

"I'll be... busy tomorrow... lots to do at home," _Because my brother is an overbearing twat_ "Maybe some other time?"

**John**

"Yeah. Sure." I start to rub my knee like I do when nervous. It's been a long while sense I've spoken about much outside of Medicine or Soldiering. "So, umm, what now?"

**Sherlock**

I notice him rubbing his knee, then start to chuckle.. "I told you your limp was psychosomatic..." I say with a chuckle.

**John**

"What do you mean? This is my knee."

**Sherlock**

"I am aware of that. I am also aware that although you had your cane with you when you met me by the fountain, you left it lying in the brush when we hid to dodge my... that Red Ferret and the Silver Fox. Since then we've walked the grounds and done a fair amount of dancing, and you've not limped even once." I smile.

**John**

Thinking back on the events I see where he's right. "Oh Joy. And I didn't even notice. No one did. Wow." I glance down and see my hand isn't shaking either. "Do you notice a lot of things like that?"

**Sherlock**

"Noticing things like that are simple - one must observe."

**John**

"Show me."

**Sherlock**

I stand up and take his hand. "Let's go dance. While we dance, point out people, and I'll tell you what I see." We head back to the main hall.

**John**

"What about him?" I point out a short bloke with yellow feathery fluff.

**Sherlock**

I turn us with the music, and glance at the man John selected. "Unhappy marriage. You see how he's holding his partner? That's his wife. Every time he takes notice of another woman, her grip on his shoulder tightens."

**John**

"Wow. Amazing." Looking closer I can see that the couple is Mrs and Mr Smallwood. "How ‘bout them?" I point out a pair in perfectly mirrored scales.

**Sherlock**

"Not a couple. He asked her to the ball only because he couldn't work up the courage to ask the person he really wanted to bring... her brother." I chuckle lightly.

**John**

"Oh blimey. I thought they were twins! Obviously I'm horrible at this game." I look around and no one really stands out. "Who's got the worst outfit you think?"

**Sherlock**

I look around the room. "All the outfits are so extravagant. Honestly, I find my own lacking somewhat, by comparison."

**John**

"Really? Have you seen you?" How can he, the most ostensibly bedecked masked of us all, feel he is drab? "I'm being serious."

**Sherlock**

I huff. "Yes, I've seen me. I do own a mirror." I roll my eyes. _Well, my brother has a mirror_. "I didn't put a lot of thought into my outfit. My decision to comes was somewhat... last minute."

**John**

I nod along knowing any attempt to debate this would simply end in him dismissing it. "Then who has got the absolute worst? Or the best? Which one would you have preferred?"

**Sherlock**

I look at him, a smile in my eyes. "I like yours. It suits you, I think."

**John**

His answer makes me stumble and I end up stepping on his foot a few times. "A hedgehog suits me?  Is that a good thing? I don't see how it could be."

**Sherlock**

"Hedgehogs are generally solitary creatures. So are you." I shrug. "This party was a way for your mum to get you to meet people... possibly a potential partner?" I ask quietly.

**John**

"It was Harry who chose this mask." I had stated many times, in many ways, that I would be just as fine going naked or in my uniform. "Do you think it would turn off a potential partner? That I'm a solitary hedgehog?"

**Sherlock**

I blush. "There's nothing wrong with being solitary. I often prefer it, myself." _Anything to get away from my brother_ "It's good to know someone who understands." I say.

**John**

"What would you have chosen if not a Phoenix?" He strikes me as a majestic beast of some sort. Something graceful. Something rare.

**Sherlock**

"As it happens, I think the phoenix is quite appropriate for me. But if I had to choose another, I think I would be a dragon - ancient and wise."

**John**

"Aren't Phoenixes a type of Dragon?" I can imagine him upon a pile of books and parchment.

**Sherlock**

"No, John," I shake my head. "A Phoenix is a bird. It has a long life, and each is reborn from the ashes of its predecessor. The friend who loaned me this mask thinks it's time for me to start a new life... hence, a Phoenix is appropriate."

**John**

We've slowly made our way to a dim alcove so I pull him inside and lower the curtain. It’s almost impossible to see more than faint outlines. "Are you going to follow that advice?" I had not yet let go of his hand but instead use it to tug him closer to me.

**Sherlock**

I let out a shaky breath. _A sudden attack of nerves... interesting... why?_ "I... I hadn't really decided. I feel like I should, but it's never that easy."

**John**

"Sometimes something can seem so simple but it’s still hard to make yourself take that first step." I tug a bit more until I feel his boots hit the tips of mine. "Sometimes you just need a bit of help, or encouragement." As if we were still dancing I twirl him so that his back is against the wall and the curtain behind me. "Sometimes you need a nudge." I feel my way up to his face with my hands. Hoping that in the dark he will be less resistant to me moving his mask I take a chance and slip it up bit by bit. Though its not completely dark there is not enough light that I would be able to see any of his features. I pull my own mask completely off once his is resting on his hair. "Sometimes... Sometimes all someone needs is permission."

**Sherlock**

I suddenly find myself with my back to the wall, the near-total darkness limiting my sight, so my other senses take over. I feet the warmth of John's fingers, the whisper of his breath as he speaks to me softly. I tremble as he gently slides my mask up and hear him take off his own. "I... I suppose I should... give myself permission..." my voice is hardly more than a whisper.

**John**

I press my body into his as I pull his head down a bit. Our noses bump into each other first and I giggle at how unsuave it all is. My lips brush his, in no hurry to speed this first kiss into anything more. As I feel him relax I swipe my tongue against his lower lip then retreat it.

**Sherlock**

I rest one hand tentatively on his shoulder and the other on his waist, and press my lips to his. I've never before so wished for daylight, where I would be able to see his eyes right now.

**John**

I pull back after a sweet moment. Where I rest my forehead on his chest I can feel his heart pounding away.

**Sherlock**

My fingers brush the back of his neck, and I rub my cheek against his hair as he leans against my chest. I close my eyes and take a shaky breath.

**John**

"Out of curiosity. Would Phoenixes eat Hedgehogs?" I can feel his smile and exasperated huff."What do Hedgehogs even eat."

**Sherlock**

I laugh quietly, stroking his hair. "Hedgehogs eat any number of invertebrate garden pests - insects, slugs, and the like. Phoenixes consume things like frankincense, so I doubt hedgehog would be on their menu." My hand traces lightly along his cheek, and I smooth my thumb across his lips.

**John**

I reach up to kiss him again but someone tugs on the other side of the curtain.

**Harry**

"Mum’s looking for you."

**John**

I thank her for the warning then dismiss it to kiss William again.

**Sherlock**

I feel his lips brush mine again, and lean in to kiss him a little more firmly. His tongue nudges against my lips and I yield, my lips parting.

**John**

"I'll be right back love. Ten, twenty minutes, tops." I kiss him one more brief time before I reapply his mask. "Right back." I open the curtain and follow Harry to wherever Mum is waiting.

**Sherlock**

I stand there, stunned to silence by what I just experienced. I take several deep breaths, willing my heart to slow back to a normal pace. Once again calm and in control, I adjust my mask and push myself off the wall, carefully parting the curtain and exiting the alcove.

Sherlock overheard a conversation between the Royal Family.

**John**

"I have been dancing."

**Harry**

"She means with more than one person."

**John’s Mum (MoonshineD)**

"Nobody knows who that William is."

**Harry**

"Seems nobody has ever seen him or heard of him around here before."

**John’s Mum**

"You must rid yourself of his company and find someone more suitable. Immediately."

**John**

"No."

**John’s Mum**

"That was not a suggestion. Do I need to have him removed from the premises?"

**John**

"No! No. Don't do that."

**Harry**

"So what. Find another partner to snog. It’s easy. I do it all the time."

**John’s Mum**

"I don't care who you -snog- in your free time but you will -not marry- that commoner."

**John**

"Mum. I--"

**John’s Mum**

"I don't care. Get rid of him. Now."

 _The sounds of two sets of women’s heels can be heard clicking off to the distance._   T _he distinct sound of John’s boots can be heard coming out of the drawing room_

**John**

My head is lowered as I walk back to where I hope William waited for me. We didn't go far from the alcove and if he did hear the awful things my Mum and Sister said then he needs to know that I disagree with them. Even after only a few hours I would choose him, my Phoenix, over family or titles or inheritance.

**Sherlock**

My heart breaks as I inadvertently overhear much of the conversation between John and his mother.   _I must spare him_ I think gallantly. I head quietly out the nearest exit, taking off my mask as I leave (no sane cabbie will pick up a lone masked man at this hour, after all). Setting the mask on the end of the banister by the stone steps in the front of the castle, I make my way quickly and quietly to the main road and head toward town on foot. Luckily, about halfway there, a cab does happen by, and I'm able to negotiate a ride back to our house. When I arrive there, I carefully strip off the clothing loaned me, and climb sadly into bed for a restless night's sleep.

**John**

"William!" I call out for the third or fourth time. "Where are you?" I've walked in on two couples in flagrante and an overly-intoxicated Mr Smallwood taking a nap in the alcoves. As I turn to go towards the balcony my foot grazes something on the ground and it slides under a bench. My heart breaks when I kneel to find the Phoenix mask. Like me, it was abandoned by its owner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Mycroft**

"Really, Gregory, I must get home..." I try to unwind myself from his arms.

**Greg**

"What for? To yell at Lock? To eat burnt biscuits? No. Stay with me love." I hold on to him tighter in attempts to get him to sleep in my bed tonight.

**Mycroft**

"No, Gregory," I kiss him on the forehead. "Tongues will wag if I'm seen leaving your home so early in the morning. You do have a bit of a reputation, you know." I wink at him. "Best I leave under cover of darkness."

**Greg**

"Best to just stay under covers." I grab his arse and role on top of him. "We all know how much you like to be under..." I squeeze his arse tightly.

**Mycroft**

"You are insatiable, Gregory Lestrade. " I say with a grin, grinding my hip up against him.

 

**Greg**

I move my hand to his hip and rock in to him. "Just trying to live up to my reputation, Mycie." I crush our mouths together as I grab his hair.

**Mycroft**

"Mmmm" I groan as he nips at my lower lip, and starts down my neck with his teeth. His grip in my hair is tight, and the tension feels good. I squirm under his weight.

**Greg**

"Did I not fuck all that attitude out of you earlier? Shame shame. I'll do better this time." I roll off of him and bring him on top of me.

**Mycroft**

I take advantage of the new position to grab his wrists and pin them down. "Do you really think you're capable of that, Gregory dear?" I smile down at him slyly. "Somehow, I don't think so." I lean down as though to kiss him, but when he tries to stretch to meet my lips, I pull away with a grin. "Tsk, tsk... so impatient..."

**Greg**

"You really think you can over power me?" I hook my leg behind his ankle and flip us over. "You're so cute when you're... Cute." I kiss the tip of his nose before I kiss his throat.

**Mycroft**

I growl at him, but my eyes sparkle with mischief. I scratch my nails lightly along his inner thighs, stopping enticingly close to my prize.

**Greg**

I sit back and watch his hands near my cock. "Thinking about doing something love? Or just going to be a tease...?" I place my hands on my thighs next to his and wait to see what his next move will be.

**Mycroft**

I drag my fingers along his rapidly-hardening cock. "Me? A tease? Perish the thought..." I smile up at him.

**Greg**

"You are the biggest tease in the history of teases." We have had a few interesting nights on exactly how long he can get me close and stave me off. "Tonight is not the night for that."

**Mycroft**

"No?" I pout playfully. "What is tonight the night for, then?" I wrap my hand around his firm flesh and stroke firmly, my eyes never leaving his.

**Greg**

"It's the night for you to lose that superior attitude." I rock into his thrusting as I start to play with my own nipples.

**Mycroft**

Pfft. "Promises, promises, Gregory." I pull him down for a rough kiss. "Prove to me that you're half as good as they say you are. " I purr in his ear.

**Greg**

"You already know I am, gorgeous."

**Mycroft**

I continue stroking him, adding a slight twist of my wrist with each upstroke. I feel him shiver, and his thigh tighten over me. "But I want you to prove it." I say with a suggestive grin.

**Greg**

"Then you're gonna have to stop what you're doing sweetheart." I smile slyly as I take his hand off my cock and take turns sucking each digit into my mouth.

**Mycroft**

With a whine, I writhe under his hips. I can feel my cheeks flush as I watch him lick and suck my fingers.

**Greg**

It hadn't been very long since I last bottomed, something I do only with Mycroft, so I didn't expect I'd need much prep. I put two of my fingers in his mouth as I sucked on his. My plan was to have him watch me while I made sure I was still able to take him.

**Mycroft**

I am so engrossed in his tongue dancing over my own fingers that I am caught by surprise when his fingers rub over my lips, begging entry. I take them in, my tongue's movements mimicking his as I sigh and let my eyes flutter closed.

**Greg**

Within moments I pulled my fingers out of his mouth and reached between us. I lifted my arse and made a long moan sound when I thrust two digits into myself deeply. His eyes opened quickly and I was unsure if he had expected this to be the way I was going to fuck that attitude out of him.

**Mycroft**

My breath quickens as I watch him, and my cock aches to be touched. With my free hand, I reach over to the bedstand and grab the half-empty bottle of lube, pouring some into my hand and proceeding to stroke it over my dick with a shudder and a moan.

**Greg**

"Seem pretty convinced bout yourself there. Mayhaps I was just gonna look at your luscious body and get myself off without you? What would you say to that?" I insert another finger with only minimal resistance so I deem myself ready. I take his hand away from his penis and position the head at my entry. In one breath I go from empty to him being bottomed out inside me.

**Mycroft**

It takes me a moment to catch my breath after our hips meet, his tight warmth enveloping me. "Ready for any possibility," I mumble, grabbing his hips.

**Greg**

I laugh at his haughty attitude even during sex. "Never change Mycroft Alexander Holmes." I nip at his hickey then commence riding him for my sole pleasure alone.

**Mycroft**

I arch up, thrusting up into him as much as I am able, watching the blissful look on his face as he rides me.

**Greg**

I dig my nails into his chest to get my balance as I slam myself down repeatedly on top of him. "There. That's good." I grab hold of the head board and use the leverage for height and speed.

**Mycroft**

_Somehow, he's managing to fuck me breathless when I'm the one fucking him..._ I chuckle to myself. I dig my fingers into his hips in a failed attempt to control the pace.

**Greg**

I grab his hand and put it on my chest. "This isn't about you Holmes. It’s about me taking my pleasure from you." I come to a stop and stroke myself a few times. "Do you understand?"

**Mycroft**

My brow wrinkles in frustration. "That's not playing fair, Gregory, darling..." My fingers curl against his chest.

**Greg**

"And calling me Darling is?" I rock back and forth a few times. "Teasing me." I add a little bounce to my rocking. "Grabbing the arse of that young, fuck, young plush..." His head hits my prostate with the perfect amount of pressure. "You don't grab my arse like that in public anymore."

**Mycroft**

"I told you..." I say through gritted teeth as he swivels his hips deliciously _this may be him taking his pleasure, but it's working for me_ "...the wheels of diplomacy..." I grab his hips again.

**Greg**

"There's that attitude again. It’s not always all about you, Mr. Holmes. Or diplomacy." He still isn't getting it. I reposition myself so my feet are flat on the bed and both hands are on the head board. In this new stance I can pull my body onto his penis hard and fast and as deep as momentum allows. I use his cock for my ultimate pleasure.

**Mycroft**

My head falls back as he rides me hard. The rough treatment takes my breath away, the pleasure building very slowly. Every time he sees a glimmer of it on my face, he changes his movements - both to his benefit and my detriment. I growl in frustration, glaring at him.

**Greg**

"Poor baby. You don't seem happy ‘bout how I'm fucking you. Want me to stop?" I punctuate my words with a twist of my hips.

**Mycroft**

"If you're just going to torture me all night..." I grumble, digging my fingers into his hips painfully.

**Greg**

I slowly come to a stop. "How am I torturing you babe?" I can almost feel the delicious bruises forming on my hips.

**Mycroft**

"Has it occurred to you that you aren't the only one hoping to enjoy this?" I arch my back and try to continue thrusting into him, but he manages to prevent it.

**Greg**

"You enjoyed yourself a few times tonight already. The blow job when you drove us home and again when I fucked you in the shower. I enjoyed myself as well. Least I was until you tried to slither out of here so that no one would see you leave but you have no problem greasing diplomacies arse in front of Queen and Country." How does this man make me so angry and yet we are both still rock hard.

**Mycroft**

"I had no idea we were exclusive, Gregory." I've never seen him get this jealous over something as stupid as me putting my hand on some young man's arse. "Is that what you need of me? My complete and total devotion to you, to the exclusion of all others? I've told you before, I can't promise that." I lean up a bit resting on my elbows. "I won't lie to you and tell you I can."

**Greg**

"Goddammit. You don't get it do you?? I don't want your devotion or whatever else the bloody hell you seem to think I do. I want you to acknowledge me, you utter moron. I want you to be willing to be seen with me. Not dating or any shite like that but no more hiding the fact that you even know me." I get off him and the bed and put my robe on. "I no more want exclusivity than you do. I like my life as it is. I like fucking who I want, dating who I want, not having to get permission for anything. I don't want marriage or any other bs but I am sick and tired of being your dirty little secret.  If you can grope Mr Diplomacy you can at least shake my hand on the street!"

**Mycroft**

My jaw drops. "I..." I don't even know how to begin to respond to that. "I think I should leave. I... need some space..." I quietly get up and locate most of my clothes, deciding that looking for my socks and underwear is not a priority at the moment. Shoes in one hand, I open the door to leave, and stop to look at him. "Please accept my deepest apologies, Gregory." I step barefoot onto the street, the landscape lit by the first glimmers of sunrise. I opt to walk the few blocks back to my house, hoping to clear my head.

**Greg**

I take a shower and wank off before slipping into my bed. "Good night, Mycie, and good bye."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sherlock**

I am woken by my brother stomping into the house at an obscenely early hour. By the state of his clothing (and lack thereof in some places), I see that he's spent the better part of the night with Greg, and given his mood and that he appears to have walked home barefoot, the evening did not end on a good note. I hide my smirk. "Good morning, brother. Trouble in Paradise?"

**Mycroft**

"Shut up, Sherlock." I snap. "Do we have any of those biscuits left? The unburnt ones?" I knew the biscuits Greg had given me were baked by Sherlock, which means he's hiding some somewhere. "Never mind, I'll find them myself." I turn and storm into the kitchen and start rifling loudly through cabinets.

**Sherlock**

"I would prefer you not destroy the kitchen to find a way to feed your broken heart, brother." I reach into a seldom-used upper cabinet and pull out a jar, handing it to him. "Do you want coffee with those?" When he nods, I turn to start a pot while he heads to his bedroom, grasping the jar of biscuits like a lost child. After taking him a cup and being chased out of his room by just a glare, i return to the kitchen and pour myself a cup, nursing my own broken heart silently.

* * *

**John**

"My mind’s made up Mum." I don't even need to turn to know that its her who has entered my rooms. There's always been this chill that follows wherever she goes.

**John’s Mum**

"Johnny, you can't be serious. Stop being so childish." How dare he think he know better than me. It was bad enough when he ran off to join the RAF the first time.

**John**

I slam shut one suitcase and grab another hoping to find where my service holster has gotten to. "You wanted to throw me a party so I could find someone I wanted to spend my life with. I did just that. But that wasn't good enough for you, was it? No. Never is." It was later confirmed by a giggling waiter that William heard everything and I must presume he left because of what Mum said.

**John’s Mum**

"John Hamish Watson! You will not take that tone of voice with me in my house under my roof!" The stupid, short sighted, fool. Just like his father. This needs to stop now.

**John**

I turn and glare at her. "Yes, Mother. I will. I won't be under your roof much longer anyways. My old Commander says he's got a good spot for me in his new business taking supplies to remote villages. No better place for a Doctor Soldier to be then in the field. If the Queens Army won't have me least his company will. I leave in two days."

**John’s Mum**

Sholto. Damn him. "John, you just got home. Wait a while." I change tactics and try a sweeter approach.

**John**

"Two days is long enough then I'll be out of your way and you and Harry can be surrounded with all the appropriate and properly-vetted company you can handle." I grab the Phoenix mask from Harry's drunk touchy-feely hands.

**Harry**

I roll my eyes at how very dramatic Johnny has to make everything. "All over a silly boy. How stupid."

**John**

I huff at her simplified view of my life.

**Harry**

"What if you get hurt again. Gonna run home and have Mum throw you another party?

**John**

I huff at her in complete exasperation. "With any luck maybe next time I won't be sent home wounded. Now leave me. I have to pack."

* * *

**Sherlock**

After finishing my third cup of coffee, I chance checking on my brother. I peek into his room to see him facing the far wall, curled up on the bed, the unopened jar of biscuits on his bedstand, his cup of coffee cold. _Whatever happened, it must have really upset him_ I think to myself as I quietly close his door.

I step outside to retrieve the morning paper, and sit down to read it - it's a rare treat to get to read it first, after all. I gasp when I see that splashed across the front page is a full color photograph of John, those beautiful blue eyes of his gleaming in mirth, as he danced... WITH ME! _Thank God I'm not recognizable with that mask_

* * *

**John**

Haven't not slept a wink does not make for a happy soon-to-be-deployed Watson. With the obvious exception of a likely still-drunk Harry, we all gather in the breakfast room for brunch. Mum has forgone her normal pile of newspapers in favor of a crossword. The reason is soon apparent... The front page of every paper, even the local gazette, has a version of me and William dancing. The headlines range from Romantic to Ridiculous

\--THE PHOENIX SAVES LORD WATSON—

At the Masquerade Ball held in Lord Watson's honor, it was noticed that the recently sent home wounded Dr. Capt. Watson was able to set aside his cane and dance.

\--WHO IS PRINCE CHARMING—

Despite several attempts to find out, no one has been able to say who was under the Phoenix mask.

**John’s Mum**

I glance up as John sees some of the ridiculous headlines he earned himself last night. "Are you proud of yourself?" I sneer.

**John**

Smiling as I skim article after article I reply to Mums sarcasm with sass. "Actually, Mum, I am. Quite proud really." I grab the most ridiculous tabloid along with tea and toast and sit down to read.

**John’s Mum**

"Why? Because you've succeeded in embarrassing the family? Look at this one - 'WAR HERO WALTZ - At last night's masquerade ball, Lord Watson's time on the dance floor was monopolized by a certain unknown gentleman. Requests for more information about this mystery man have not been answered, but rumor has it, he is a commoner from a neighboring village.'" I roll my eyes at him. "People are going to talk, John."

**John**

I slam down my paper. "Good. Maybe I should give them more to talk about? How about this for starters: Mum of Lord Watson asks him to find a possible Spouse and when Lord Watson is Genuinely Interested She RUNS THAT PERSON OFF!" There's a crash sound from the breakfast bar where one of the overnight guests dropped the jelly pot.

**John’s Mum**

"Lower your voice!" I hiss at him angrily. "This is still my house." I take a deep breath, calming myself. "You hardly know this... person. You can't have developed an attachment to him so quickly."

**John**

"Oh? Why is that? Would that be true if he was a well-known, well-monied, titled gent?" I can see a small handful of people concentrating very hard on looking like they're not paying attention.

**John’s Mum**

I sigh, frustrated. "Why couldn't you have mingled properly... met some of the other people of status there..." I meet his glare. "And now you're running off to get shot at... again. I swear, you have less sense than your father did..."

**John**

I nod to cousin Percy, the biggest gossip in the family. He winks as he walks past with his wife. "Father had the good sense to die instead of coming home, you mean." Mum had oft said that our Father's greatest gift to us was dying a war hero. I used to think she said that to hide the pain of his death. Now, I'm not so sure it hasn't become her version of the truth.

**John’s Mum**

"I miss your father terribly, John - don't let anyone tell you otherwise." I sigh. "I don't suppose there's any way I can talk you out of this folly?"

**John**

"Which folly are you trying to talk me out of Mum?"

**John’s Mum**

"Going off to work with Sholto. It's bad enough I had to bury my husband - no parent should ever have to face burying a child."I say with a sad look in my eyes.

**John**

An exasperated sigh escapes me. "The same child that you would have no problem with them living a lonely life as long as it was deemed socially acceptable more than a common happy one that wasn't? How is that living?" I lean in close to her so that I won't be overheard. "Harry is miserable and is drinking herself to death because she married properly. You are painfully alone because you pushed away every possible chance at finding happiness because you didn't think remarrying anyone less than a hero would be socially acceptable. Mum, I love you, but I won't live that life." I kiss her on the cheek. "I leave after brunch day after tomorrow. That's make those happy days, ok?"

**John’s Mum**

"What if... what if I invited your mystery man back to the castle? Assuming I could manage to locate him? If I did that, would you stay?" I blurt out.

**John**

"He's gone Mum. I doubt he'll ever come back."

**John’s Mum**

"But what if?"

**John**

"IF you found him, IF he'd return, IF you could convince him to forgive all of us, IF you could talk him into giving me another chance...? If all those IFs happened...?" What would I do... I think about it for a moment and picture peaches, puzzles, and loads of pets. "IF all that happened? I'd stay right here and spend my life making up for all the sadness I saw in his eyes."

**John’s Mum**

"I swear to you on my honor, John - I will try." With that, I got up from the table, leaving to make some phone calls to a few well-placed newspaper people who might be able to direct me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Greg**

I knock on the door with a bit of trepidation. Sherlock is the only one who ever answers but I very much don't want to have to pass by Mycroft if he's in the living room.

**Sherlock**

Setting the paper on the table, I walk to the door. "Hello, Greg. Rough night, I take it?" I could see he was looking around to see if my brother was in the room. "He came home this morning and locked himself in his room with a jar of biscuits. Haven't seen him in hours. Come on in." I lead him into the kitchen and motion for him to take a seat at the table. "Want some tea? Or coffee?"

**Greg**

"Tea would be nice. Thanks." I set down the box I brought with me on the counter. "Give that to his highness next time you see him, k?" I fiddle with the lid a bit.

**Sherlock**

"Is that the rest of his clothing? I noticed he was... um... missing some when he came home." I hide my smirk as I pour the tea.

**Greg**

"No idea what you mean gov." I nod a thanks for the tea then sit at the small table. "So. Enjoy yourself last night? Get to see under the mask, if you know what I mean?"

**Sherlock**

"Yes, I had a very good time. Lord Watson was... quite the gentleman, actually." I blush a little bit. "I'm surprised you didn't notice us. Seems half the journalists within a 50 mile radius did." I show him the front page of the paper I'd been reading when he arrived.

**Greg**

I laugh at his not so hidden glee as he shows me the headline. "Oh trust me. I know. -Everyone- knows. What they don't know is who wore that mask. I have been contacted by no less than a dozen Reporters, Government Officials, and one person of dubious character, asking me who I sold that mask to." I didn't tell anyone anything but Sherlock would already have that figured out.

**Sherlock**

"I assume, then, I owe you my thanks for keeping my identity out of the paper, then." I toss the paper back onto the table. "I'm sure the chatter will fade in a few days." I sigh.

**Greg**

I shake my head. "Dunno. Don't think it will mate. People everywhere are talking ‘bout how to find The Phoenix. I even heard a rumor, just a rumor mind you, that Lord Watson is so heart-broken he's gonna move away." People and their stupid notions of love and crap. "Tell me what happened. I need to know. Did you really cure him of an injury?"

**Sherlock**

"Not a 'cure', per se, but made him forget about it long enough to realize that his therapist is right and the limp is all in his head." I smile weakly as I stare into my empty cup. "He's leaving, you say? I guess his mum is sending him away since he debased himself so much as to dance with a commoner..."

**Greg**

"What are you on about?" I start searching the kitchen for biscuits he's always got stashed somewhere.

**Sherlock**

"You won't find any biscuits, if that's what you're looking for. Mycroft's nursing his broken heart with them, and I advise against taking any from him directly." I chuckle. "I overheard a conversation between John, his mother, and his sister. Seems his mother was quite annoyed at his decision to spend all his time with me - some unknown. She really laid into him. I left shortly after that, to save him the embarrassment of having to avoid me the rest of the night."

**Greg**

"What a dick!"

**Sherlock**

"Wait... who? Me, for leaving? His mother, for being a snob?"

**Greg**

"All of them! Not you. All of them but you. Idiots." I give up on my biscuit quest. "What did Lord Watson say to his Mum? Did he agree with her? He seemed like a nice enough bloke. Shame really. Even the nice ones care about how everything looks. Why can someone just not care about looks for one goddammed moment and care about how it feels instead?! But noooooo. All that matters is what it -looks like-." I keep thinking about my fight with Mycroft. "Good for you I say! Getting out of there before you got invested! Not gonna let him make you his dirty secret. No sir! Not Sherlock! Proud of you.  I wouldn't tell them who was under that mask even if you told me too!"

**Sherlock**

I think for a moment, trying to remember the bits of conversation I'd heard. "No, he didn't agree with her, per se, but he also didn't argue, at least not very well. It seemed like I was more a problem for her than for him, though." I touch my fingers to my lips for a moment, daydreaming about how soft his lips were when he kissed me. "I think I will miss him, if he leaves."

**Greg**

"Don't you dare. He didn't fight for you so don't you dare miss him." If only he would have cared enough to fight.

**Sherlock**

"It wouldn't be right for me to make him choose between his family or me. Generally speaking, the one making such an ultimatum is the one who loses, you know."

**Greg**

"Yeah. Well." Pfft. "Whatever."

**Sherlock**

I refill our tea cups, and sit across from him. "So tell me... why did my brother walk home barefoot last night?" I look at him expectantly.

**Greg**

"Cause he's an arse? Is that a good enough answer?" I fiddle with the honey stick and try to explain what happened. "Well... You see... I guess we were fighting and I got mad cause he was fondling another bloke’s backside but not because he was fondling the guy, the guy was absolutely fondlingable, but because he wasn't fondling me. Kind of. I think."

**Sherlock**

"So you got jealous because he was fondling someone else's arse, and not yours?" I raise an eyebrow.

**Greg**

"No. No of course not. I got mad cause he was fondling that lush arse in public. Public. He won't even shake my hand in public." I run my hand through my hair then lay my head on my arm. "My arse isn't good enough to fondle in public.  And it’s a dammed good arse!"

**Sherlock**

"You know, Greg, I've seen his eyes when the two of you are in the room together. You really don't have anything to worry about." I sip my tea. "He's completely smitten."

**Greg**

"You don't get it, Lock. I know how he feels. I do. I feel the same. And I like what we have. I like that we both have other people that fill our needs. That's good." I end up spilling the bit that's left in the tea cup when I try to twirl it on the plate. "Oops. Sorry." I grab a dish towel and wipe it down. "The problem isn't how we feel, or what we do, or who else we feel and do other stuff with. That's the good part. The problem is the -where-. The What, Who, When, and Why are great. The Where... It’s killing me."

**Sherlock**

"And the ‘where’ is?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

**Greg**

"The Where is Public. Haven't you been paying attention? He won't do anything with me if we're in public! Cares too much ‘bout him image. It doesn't even matter if he's choked on my dick less than an hour ago, if he sees me in public, he doesn't even acknowledge me." I use the towel to start wiping off the entire table. "I could've been riding those long digits of his the night before but come morning light those digits are too good to be seen next to my simple commoner’s hands. Yet those same digits can be fondling the arse of a Statesman ‘cause it would be what's expected." I remove his cup to the sink after I scrub down his area with the towel.

**Sherlock**

"Have you actually explained this to him, Greg? He may be brilliant, but relationships are not his strong suit." I take the towel out of his hand before he starts scrubbing the finish off the table with it. "And not just in the heat of an argument - as soon as voices get loud, he stops listening."

**Greg**

"Of course I have. He just doesn't care. When I brought it up this morning he just left." I go to grab the towel back but he pulls it away from me. "Hence the walk of shame you asked about. He made it clear. He cares more for his image than for me." I pace around tapping the counter and the box I brought over. "I told him I don't want hugs and kisses and flowers or any other bs like that. I just wanted to be acknowledged. A wave, handshake, maybe a drink at the bar after work. Nothing that says -"hey world, we're fucking"- but maybe something that says -"hey, we're friends, I know him, he's a friend of mine, I'm not ashamed to be seen with him"-. You know what I mean Lock?" I smack myself in the forehead. "Damn. Sorry. Stupid question."

**Sherlock**

"Look, it's been a long time since he's had anyone he could call a friend. He probably doesn't even know how to be a friend, let alone have one. Be patient with him. Meanwhile, maybe I'll talk to him... discreetly, of course."

**Greg**

"Nah. I said my piece and he had nothing to say. Let it go." I look at my watch and see its almost three in the afternoon. "I got to go. I'll let you know if I get more calls about the mask thingy ok? You can keep the jacket by the way."

**Sherlock**

"You sure? I can get it and the shirt cleaned, and get them back to you..." Greg had already walked out the door before I finished my sentence. I shrug, and wander into the living room.

**Mycroft**

I open my door a crack. “Is he gone?” I call down the stairs

**Sherlock**

“Yes. How long have you been up? You could have come down, you know.”

**Mycroft**

Hrmph. “Not advisable, I think.” I quietly come down the stairs, placing the biscuit jar – yet untouched – onto the kitchen table, and pouring the cold coffee down the sink. “We had… a bit of a disagreement. I doubt I am high on his ‘people I’d like to see today’ list.”

**Sherlock**

“You might be surprised.” I pour him some tea, and open the biscuit jar, taking one. “How much of our conversation did you hear?” I ask, knowing that he’d probably overheard a fair amount of it, since Greg made little effort to keep his voice down.

**Mycroft**

“Enough. Honestly, brother, I didn’t even realize what I was doing.”

**Sherlock**

I shake my head. “Brother, aside from me, how many people know the two of you are, shall we say, more than professionally acquainted?”

**Mycroft**

“Probably no one. Why do you ask?”

**Sherlock**

“Don’t you find that odd? Given how long you two have been ‘other-than-professionally-acquainted’? You don’t _want_ anyone to know you see him, do you?” I let out a laugh. “He’s right – he is your ‘dirty little secret.’”

**Mycroft**

“Not so! I just never… I mean, I have an image to… and his reputation as a playboy…” I rest my head on the table with a groan.

**Sherlock**

“Take him to dinner.”

**Mycroft**

“WHAT?” I look up at him in shock.

**Sherlock**

“Dinner. You know, restaurant, food, maybe some wine. Talk to him.

**Mycroft**

“You’re daft. I doubt he’ll even answer his door if I knock.”

**Sherlock**

“You fail at 100% of the attempts you do not make.”

**Mycroft**

I look at him carefully. “Fine. But you’re handling the dry cleaning when he flings a glass of red wine onto my suit.”

**Sherlock**

_I’d be handling the dry cleaning anyway, silly brother_ “Of course. More tea?”

**Mycroft**

“Please.” I watch as Sherlock takes the cups and refills them. When he returns to the table, I ask, “So how did you spend your evening?”

**Sherlock**

“Oh, you know…” I wave dramatically at the living room. “Cleaning. Oh, and I finally finished letting out those pants you asked me to fix.” I took a deep breath, trying to hide my nerves. “I did a bit of reading. Early night, actually.”

**Mycroft**

My eyes narrow. “You’re lying. You’re a terrible liar, brother.”

**Sherlock**

I look away, feigning innocence with a grin. “Speaking of cleaning, I should clean up the kitchen. Perhaps bake some more biscuits for you. Chocolate, this time?” I smile sweetly.

**Mycroft**

I scowl at his deflection. “Yes, brother mine. Chocolate would be delightful.” I get up and head to the living room, the paper under my arm.


	8. Chapter 8

**_FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX_ **

**_Lady Watson has requested that the young man last seen wearing the Phoenix mask at last evening Masquerade Ball make his identity known by appearing at the castle no later than tomorrow midnight._ **

**Greg**

I enter the Holmes residents nearly out of breath. "SHERLOCK! Get your skinny arse here right now!" I use the Evening Edition News as a fan to cool myself off.

**Sherlock**

I come rushing out of the kitchen, wiping my hands on the apron I'm wearing. "What is it, Greg? What's wrong?" I'm almost in a panic.

**Greg**

"He wasn't embarrassed OF you. He was embarrassed FOR you!" I smack the paper into his chest and go collapse on the couch.

**Sherlock**

"Will you keep your voice down? Mycroft's upstairs, you idiot." I hiss at him. I sit down next to him, looking at the paper Greg flung at me. "His _mother_ is offering a reward for the identity of the Phoenix, and a reward for the Phoenix himself, should he present himself at the castle before tomorrow midnight."

**Greg**

"Pshaw. The reward don't matter. What matters is he wants you!" I grab the paper and smack him on the head lightly. "I've had reporters all over my shop and house since this was delivered. I snuck out and came here soon as I could."

**Sherlock**

"You mustn't breath a word, Greg. Promise me." Now it's my turn to panic a bit. _He wants me?? But at what price??_

**Greg**

I grab both sides of his face and make him look at me. "Stop being an idiot! You want him. He wants you. Go. Get. Him." I stand and try to pull him up so I can drive him to the castle but the bony bugger is heavier than he looks.

**Sherlock**

"I can't leave... Mycroft will..." Speaking of the Devil, I hear him call my name from upstairs.

**Mycroft**

"Sherlock! What the hell is all that commotion?"

**Sherlock**

"Uh... nothing, brother." I glare at Greg a moment. "Greg stopped by with a special evening edition of the paper for us."

**Mycroft**

I walk downstairs, still drying my hair, a towel wrapped around my waist. I freeze when I see Greg sitting on the sofa, his eyes wide. "Oh, he's still here..." I stammer.

**Sherlock**

A sly smile comes across my lips. "Brother, didn't you want to ask Greg something?"

**Mycroft**

I glare at Sherlock, hoping I am adequately conveying my desire to strangle him with his apron strings. "Erm... yes. Gregory, would you like to have dinner with me this evening?"

**Greg**

"Hello, Mycroft. Thank you for your ever so spontaneous offer." I sneer at Sherlock for his meddling. "I was just talking to your dear brother about the Ball last night. Turns out Lord Watson was quite smitten by a particular guest, but no one knows who he really was or where he could be found."

**Mycroft**

"Really? May I?" I reach for the paper, and Sherlock hands it to me. "So, Lord Watson has no idea who it was, hm? So... anyone could show up and claim to be the Phoenix... reap the reward." I look again at the picture they've re-run from the morning edition. "Greg, surely YOU know who it is... that mask is certainly your work."

**Greg**

"I don't know who bought every mask. I make them and have staff to sell them. I've already checked the records and there isn't one." I shrug. "Came by to get a break from the press at my door."

**Mycroft**

"I'm sure." I suddenly realize my state of dress - or lack thereof. "Greg, my offer of dinner still stands. It sounds like you'd like to avoid your shop for a while anyway."

**Greg**

"Thank you, Mycroft but I don't want Sherlock to have to cook for another person without enough warning. Maybe dinner here another time." I turn back to Sherlock as Myc leaves.  It’s unfair of him to offer up Sherlocks superior culinary skills and inviting me to dinner without asking him first.

**Mycroft**

"I wasn't asking you to dinner HERE, Greg. Let's go to the restaurant down the road. My treat." I smile hopefully.

**Greg**

I fold my arms in front of me. "Did you not hear me when I said Press? As in the Press is staking out my house and my work looking for any information. Any one seen with me will have their face on the front of tomorrow’s paper."

**Mycroft**

"I am aware." I reply, meeting his glare.

**Greg**

I walk up to him with my arms still crossed. "Press, Mycroft. Public."

**Mycroft**

"Yes. If you'd prefer not to be seen with me, I understand." I say quietly, my face just inches from his.

**Greg**

"Puh-blick. People will see you. With me." I make sure he understands exactly what's in store if we go out.

**Mycroft**

I roll my eyes. "I'm not dense, Greg. I am aware we will be seen - and more than likely photographed - together. Do you want dinner or not?" He's getting frustrating.

**Greg**

I unfold my arms and place my hands on his hips. "If that's the case, Mycie, let me help you dress."

**Mycroft**

"I do suppose I'm a bit underdressed at the moment," I grin. "Come upstairs and you may select appropriate clothing for me."

**Greg**

Once we enter his room I whip off his towel. "Bed. Now."

**Mycroft**

"Really, Gregory..." I chuckle weakly, keeping him at arm's length as I back toward the bed.

**Greg**

"Yes, Mycroft Holmes, really." My voice comes out a bit growly as I stalk him towards his bed.

**Mycroft**

"My brother is downstairs. This is a bad idea." I mumble.

**Greg**

I stop a few feet away from him to unbutton my shirt. "He's a grown man who knows how to turn on a radio." I decide to call his bluff. "But I -would- hate to defile his virgin ears. I'll just get myself off at home and meet you for dinner in an hour or so."

**Mycroft**

"Pity that." A smile begins to creep across my lips. "I can do a much better job of that for you."

**Greg**

A grin spreads across my face at his words. "Oh, so now you wanna play Mr. Holmes? A moment ago, you were acting the worried bride on her wedding day." The thought of Myc in Bridal Lingerie makes my dick even harder.

**Mycroft**

I stop as the mattress hits the back of my knees and sit onto the bed hard. I reach forward and grab Greg's belt, pulling him toward me with a grin.

**Greg**

Looking down and him I finish taking my shirt off and let it drop to the floor. "Undress me." Something in him makes me just want to dominate him from time to time. This afternoon appears to be one of those times.

**Mycroft**

I slip his belt off and unbutton his trousers. "Well, that is an order I am most willing to obey. It's to my advantage, too, after all." I nuzzle against his stomach as I hook my thumbs onto the waistband of his trousers and pants, sweeping them to the floor in one motion.

**Greg**

Once my cock is free is pops up and smacks Myc in the chin. I chuckle at his not-happy look. "Sorry gorgeous. Guess it wants your mouth as much as the rest of me. I'll punish him later for such bad manners. A good spanking should suffice." I laugh at my own jokes but mostly it’s his reaction to them.

**Mycroft**

I run my tongue over his head softly, his frustrated groan music to my ears.

**Greg**

"Come on love... Your teasing is vicious."

**Mycroft**

I chuckle to myself, then lick up his length. "Me? Teasing? Of course not." I take him in my mouth and suckle gently.

**Greg**

I put a hand on either side of his face as he starts to suck me off. "Bloody perfect." His mouth was made to do this. Suck cock and spin facts.

**Mycroft**

My hands rest on his hips, and I rub my thumbs over his hip bones as I take him deeper.

**Greg**

I scratch his scalp lightly and adjust my feet so my legs are open wider. "Thank you, baby." I'm looking forward to the moment when he finds that I currently have my favorite plug tucked in my arse.

**Mycroft**

I purr around his cock when his fingers run over my scalp, and pull his hips toward me, taking him to the back of my throat.

**Greg**

"Damn. Gonna take it all the way babe? I love the way you do that. You're the only one who can." Most lovers balk at the size of my cock.

**Mycroft**

Stifling a laugh, I pull back and let him slip out of my mouth. "What's in it for me, if I do that for you?" I grin up at him, teasing him with the tip of my tongue.

**Greg**

"What if I promise to return the favor?" He knows I love sucking him off any chance I can. It has made for some interesting car rides.

**Mycroft**

I continue teasing him. "That will do... for starters." Before he has a chance to respond, I take him all the way, swallowing around him.

**Greg**

My moan is loud enough that the neighbors may have heard it. I stumble a bit and try to right myself but that's damn near impossible when a mouth made from the gods is sucking my brain out from my dick. I end up hunched over him with my hands on his shoulders to keep from falling over.

**Mycroft**

I press against his hips, trying to help keep him standing for a few minutes longer. I pull back and take a breath, then dive forward again. My own neglected dick is throbbing with need, so I give it a few strokes, my moans vibrating around him.

**Greg**

"Fuh... Oh." My legs start to tremble as I'm getting close. "Need. To sit."

**Mycroft**

I pull him forward a little, letting his knees rest against the mattress between my thighs, but don't relent.

**Greg**

I nudge him to lay down and put my hands above his head. I make sure that I'm not pinning him down so has plenty of room to move. He leans his head up and my head goes so far down his throat I can feel him swallowing around the whole thing. "Mmm. Mycie. Not gonna last." Someday I'll have to convince him to let me take a picture when we're like this. His hair is a mess, drool is coming out of his mouth at the corner, he's wanking himself, and the whole thing is ‘bout as perfect a sight I could ever see.

**Mycroft**

With my free hand I stroke along his inner thigh, feeling his balls tighten under my fingertips as I brush over them, cupping them in my hand.

**Greg**

"So close." That warm, tingly, almost have to pee sensation starts in my gut. "So good. Close."

**Mycroft**

I redouble my efforts, swallowing around him again, and pressing my fingertips just behind his balls.

**Greg**

I try to hold back as long as possible to make this experience last. The moment he presses on my taint, which makes the plug press my prostate, I lose the fight. My balls tighten up and my legs go and I cum so hard I see stars.

**Mycroft**

I keep swallowing as he cums, until he pulls away from me and flops down beside me on the bed. I close my eyes and take a deep shaky breath as I continue stroking myself, getting close myself.

**Greg**

My breathing is ragged and my brain is mushy but I remember my promise. I roll over so I'm on all fours and pull the plug out. "Fuck me." Myc’s eyes open wide when he sees the plug.

**Mycroft**

I stop stroking for a moment, presenting with the inviting view of Greg's arse as he pulls out the plug. I get off the bed and retrieve a bottle of lube from the bathroom counter, popping it open and pouring some into my hand as I climb onto the bed behind him. "Interesting choice of accessory, Gregory..." I run my lips over one arse cheek, smoothing some of the lube over my straining cock, then turning my attention to him, pressing two, then three, slicked fingers into him. "If I didn't know better, I'd question your motives."

**Greg**

"Good thing you know better then. I -always- have the best of motives." I wiggle my arse a bit to get him to hurry up. My cock tries to wake up when he calls me Gregory in his posh voice.

**Mycroft**

"Again with the impatience..." I take my fingers away and line my cock up, press slowly into him, relishing the tight warmth enveloping me. "You should know by now, darling," I lean over and purr in his ear as our hips meet. "I'm worth waiting for." I pull back just a bit and press back in hard.

**Greg**

Umgf. "And you should know I'll take what I want if you take too long." He gives me a decent smack for sassing him. Finally he lets loose and gets into a rhythm of his own. He knows exactly how to hit my prostate and the stimulation wakes my dick up.

**Mycroft**

My fingers curl into his hips as I pound into him, the heat curling inside my gut. "I never... make you wait... too long..." I gasp out, shuddering as I get closer.

**Greg**

I think back to all the nights he spent hours edging me. We have very different ideas of waiting too long. He does a twist of his hips and starts really pounding into me. I can feel another cum coming on. Oh fuck. So good. I'm so overstimulated but the pleasure in the pain is delicious.

**Mycroft**

I throw my head back with a groan as the pleasure breaks and I slam into him one last time, cumming hard. My fingers are dug so hard into his hips I'm sure he'll have bruises for days, but he's never complained before. I slump over his back, my head resting between his shoulder blades as I catch my breath,

**Greg**

The moment his hot cum enters me I pulse out my own release. My body feels boneless and sated. I find myself nodding in to a needed nap.

**Mycroft**

I get up with a groan, padding over to the bathroom to grab a flannel to clean us up. Once that's done, I curl up behind Greg, nuzzling against his neck. "Dinner, remember? We should get dressed."

**Greg**

I pat whatever body part happened to be near my hand, his thigh I think. "Shh. Nap first."

**Mycroft**

I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. "Mmmm. No, we should go. We have reservations."

**Greg**

"Sleeeeeeeeeep." I pull my hand back and attempt to grab the blanket to cover myself.

**Mycroft**

I chuckle to myself, my teeth grazing over his ear. My hand slips under the blanket and brushes over his hip. "Time to get up, Lords." I purr.

**Greg**

"Why do you hate me?" I claw my way out of the bed and go straight to the shower. "If you don't hate me I'll take a cup of caffeine as proof."

**Mycroft**

"My, my, someone's cranky. After having such a good time, too..." I giggle as he sashays into the bathroom and closes the door loudly. I head to the wardrobe and select some clothing, getting dressed quickly. Sherlock's bedroom door is closed, so he's likely in there, studiously ignoring us. I walk down the stairs and find that he graciously thought to put on coffee before vanishing to his room. Pouring a cup, I take it back upstairs, leaving the cup and saucer on the dresser for Greg. When he comes down, dressed and the cup in hand, I am reading the paper on the sofa.

**Greg**

"Anythin’ good?" I nod towards the paper in his hand. The Evening Edition is more fluff and stuff than news.

**Mycroft**

"Other than what we've already seen, not really. Ready for dinner?"

**Greg**

I down the coffee and yell my goodbyes to Sherlock. I follow him out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Mike Stamford is played by StraightShooter (MsLadySmith)

**Mycroft**

"I hope you don't mind walking... it's just a couple of blocks, after all." I head up the street with him beside me.

**Greg**

I bump his shoulder with mine and look away a bit to hide my smile. "Nah. It's a nice night for a walk."

**Mycroft**

I smile back at him as we walk the short distance to the restaurant. The manager nods at me when we enter, and he seats us at a table near the window. "Order anything you like. Dinner's on me tonight."

**Greg**

I order a steak with all the fixings. After all the exercise I got earlier I need a few extra calories. "Thanks mate." Before our meal arrives, an old friend walks past the table. At first, I planned on pretending I didn't see him due to Myc’s preference of being anti-social but then I remembered what tonight was all about… him not being embarrassed of me. "Hey, Mike." I make a wave motion as he passes.

**Mycroft**

I nod to Stamford as he passes. He heads to the bar to collect a pint, then returns to our table, pulling up a chair.

**Mike Stamford**

"Hey, Greg, how's things?"

**Greg**

"Good Mikey. This is a friend of mine. Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft, this is an old school friend, Mike Stamford."

**Mycroft**

"A pleasure, Mr. Stamford. My brother has mentioned you, as well. Seems you and he have a few common interests."

**Greg**

"Yeah, almost forgot you know Sherlock. He's good by the way." After a bit of small talk, the conversation got around to our respective jobs. "Actually, now that the Ball’s over and I won't be making any more masks, or anything, for a while... Anyways, I've been looking for a job in PR. I got the diploma for it, might as well get some use out of it." The waiter came buy with fresh drinks for all of us.

**Mike Stamford**

"As it happens, Lady Watson is looking for someone to help with finding Lord Watson's mysterious suitor. Might be right up your alley. Interested?"

**Greg**

I almost choke on my beer. "Yeah. I might be able to do that. But what about after? Is it a one job thing or are we looking at a regular position?"

**Mike Stamford**

"Call it a working interview. If Lady Watson likes what she sees, she'll probably offer you a full-time gig, if you want it."

**Greg**

"Thanks Gov. Right generous of you to give me a shot." I raise my glass to Myc for a quick cheers.

**Mycroft**

I raise my glass to the two of them, as well. "Good luck, Greg. I'm sure she'll love you."

**Mike Stamford**

"Now I just need to find someone to handle security. I'm sure you can imagine, it's complete chaos. The man they have running things now couldn't secure a nursery, let alone a bunch of grown men looking to get in close to Lord Watson." I shake my head.

**Mycroft**

I swallow my wine. "Actually, Mr. Stamford, I may be able to assist with that, if you'd like. If I can handle international diplomacy, I suspect this particular crowd won't be difficult."

**Mike Stamford**

"That'd be great, Mycroft. You looking for a permanent gig like Greg, here, or temporary? I'm sure we can manage either."

**Mycroft**

I look at Greg for a moment. "I think permanent would be acceptable, if the Lady would have me."

**Mike Stamford**

"You two just lifted a HUGE weight off my shoulders." I smack the table top jovially. "Well, I need to be getting back - let Lady Watson know her staffing issues are handled. We'll see you tomorrow morning, then? Bright and early, if you please." With that, I shake both their hands and pay for all our drinks, and head back.

**Greg**

"Congratulations Mr. Holmes." I smile brightly. This day has been a rollercoaster that looks to be ending on a very high note.

**Mycroft**

"And to you, Mr. Lestrade." I summon the waiter and have him bring a bottle of champagne. "We've reach several milestones today. Definitely worth a celebration." I smile as the waiter pours. I raise my glass to him.

**John**

I leave my room and head for the main hall. It’s not even 5am and the Castle is almost as loud as it was the night of the Ball. When I get to the gallery at the top of the stairs I see so many men. The majority are the same height and figure as William. Some even have feathers sticking out of their hair. The moment one of them sees me he shouts John! and the others join in. I run back to my suite and lock the door as a large group of them start climbing up the stairs.

**John’s Mum**

I yell for security, who quickly get the crowd under control (and away from the stairs). I knock gently on John's door. "John, you can come out now."

**John**

My breath is ragged and nerves are shot. I sneak out the secret door behind the basin in the loo. "Psst. Harry." I whisper yell at my sister after I get out of the hidden hallway that leads to her restroom. She doesn't wake so I try gain. "Harry?" nothing "Harry!" nothing "HARRY!" ah, now she's awake.

**John’s Mum**

I try the door, only to find it locked. I walk down the hall to my daughter's room. Rather than knock, since I'm sure a knock on her door will do nothing to wake her from her typical drunken stupor, I just open the door (thank goodness she is also lax with locking doors when inebriated) and walk into her room. "Harriet!" I holler at her loudly. The mass of blankets on the bed growls and shifts, but I get no other response from it. Then I see John standing in the bathroom door.

**John**

"Mum!" I run right past her to shut and lock the door. "Are you ok?" I start patting her down for possible injuries. "Do you know why there's a mob out there? Looking for me??"

**John’s Mum**

"Calm down, John. Security has things well in hand now." I pat his shoulder reassuringly. "Most of the men outside claim to your Phoenix. I was hoping you could come down and perhaps evaluate?"

**John**

I sputter and almost trip on nothing at her calm declaration of the reason behind the mob. "M'sorry. Musta heard wrong. What? My Phoenix? Is them? No." I walk away from her and back to the secret passage.

**John’s Mum**

"Get back here, John." He turns to face me. "Do you have a better way to get him to come here? He may be in that crowd. I need your help, if you want to find him."

**John**

"I need tea. Lots of tea. And clothes. I'll meet you down there." I head back to my room to find a comfortable but desirable outfit. After over thirty minutes and several jumper changes later, I settle for just a comfortable outfit and head down stairs.

**John’s Mum**

I am waiting for John in my drawing room - hopefully, a comfortable enough locale for meeting the men lined up outside. "Now, John, the security team will allow one man at a time to come in, and you can speak to him if you wish. Do what you need to do to see if he is, indeed, your Phoenix." I point to my desk, where the delicate black-and-red feathered mask sits. "If you think it's him, have him try on the mask, as well. The final decision is yours."

**John**

"I will forgive you going through my belongings and taking that mask." I look at her sternly and take a seat next to her. "I forgive you because I can tell you did it out of love for me." I pat her hand and nod for the guard to send the first one through. At first he seems somewhat possible. Correct height area, correct figure, but when he speaks to say his name, William, it takes all my control to not spit my tea everywhere at the sound of his affected lisp.

**John’s Mum**

Even I could tell that wasn't the young man John introduced us to at the ball. I wave to security, and they escort this one out, and bring the next young man in. I can tell he's tall enough, but his dark hair is much thinner and straighter than I remember. I glance at John questioningly, and he shakes his head. And so it goes - one at a time, John judges that the men presenting themselves as the Phoenix are not. By mid-morning, I can tell he's getting frustrated.

**John**

"Mum. It’s not going to happen. Thank you for trying. I love you for that." I stand and stretch some kinks out. "We've been at hours though. Let’s call it done now, ok?"

**John’s Mum**

"Don't give up so easily. Let's have some lunch, and get back to it a bit longer, all right?"

**John**

"Fine." I tuck her hand in mine and escort her to the main hall lunch is usually laid out. When I attempt to escort her to the back patio we are instantly surrounded by possible Williams, groupies to those Williams, people with handmade banners, and a cacophony of Phoenixes. The shouting, cheering, reporters shouting questions, lights flashing, everything. We are quickly pulled back into the hall.


	10. Chapter 10

**Greg**

I knock on the door of the Holmes house and wait for Sherlock to open it this time. "Hello Lock. Good day isn't it? I'm here to fetch your brother on my way to the Castle."

**Sherlock**

"He should be down in a few minutes." I hand Greg two bags of biscuits. "Give one of those to the Royal family, will you?"

**Greg**

"Yeah, will do." I fidget with the bag as we wait for Myc. "You know why we're going to the Castle. You could save all of us a bunch of time if you just..."

**Sherlock**

"With my brother there? It's a bit early for you to be drinking, isn't it, Greg?" I roll my eyes. "Besides, I've got plenty to do here - easier with His Stubbornness out of the house."

**John**

"If you would just tell him, or Lord Watson, then all this fuss will be over with." I have to agree with him about his brother’s attitude making things difficult but Sherlock is just as stubborn.

**Sherlock**

I'm about to launch into a colorful but firm response in the negative when my brother enters the room.

**Mycroft**

"Good morning, Greg. Shall we head to the castle? I understand they're having some security issues... what, with the large crowd that's gathered..." I nod to the door.

**Greg**

I scowl at Sherlock briefly. "You'll be heading Security. I'll be in charge of weeding out the obvious phoneys. Heard they let one guy in who was shorter than Lord Watson himself and twice as round. Guess they figure I'll be able to eye ball who it can't be easier than who they've got doing it."

**Mycroft**

"I doubt the real Phoenix will even show up, to be honest. He would never have left as he did - without telling Lord Watson his identity - if he didn't have something significant to hide." I huff, as I head out the door.

**Greg**

"Agreed!" I escort Myc to the Corvette and we make our way to the Castle. "You really think William won't show up?"

**Mycroft**

"Definitely. I bet when the morning paper came out, his wife gave him an earful." I chuckle to myself.

**Greg**

I laugh at his jaded but often correct deduction. "Maybe he isn't some married jack off. Maybe he's a young man looking for love but afraid now that he's possible found it."

**Mycroft**

"Doubtful, but I do appreciate your rose-color glasses, Gregory." I smile at him as he drives us to the castle.

**Greg**

Once at the Castle I part ways from Myc and make my way to the parlor where Lord Watson and his family are waiting.

**John’s Mum**

"Oh, Greg. Thank you for coming on such short notice. As you can see, the evening edition has caused a bit of a problem." I glance over at John, who is rolling his eyes.

**Greg**

I place the bag of biscuits on the table as I head over to the Royal Family. "Quite a mob out there. I think you can safely send at least 95% of them away immediately." 100% actually.

**John’s Mum**

"That's exactly what I was hoping for, Greg. John's getting a bit... frustrated... with the process, I think. The fewer men make it through your preliminary examination, the better." I glance at the bag he's set on the table. "What's that?"

**Greg**

"Myc’s brother made some biscuits and sent me with some." I put a few on an empty platter and take the tray over to her. "Try them?"

**John’s Mum**

"How delightful. Thank him for us, would you?" I look over at John, positively sulking by the window. "John, have some biscuits."

**John**

I take one of the biscuits as requested and set it on the tea saucer. It’s been a long day full of nonsense. "Thank you for coming. The masks were brilliant. The Phoenix mask was the best though. You did make it, yes?"

**Greg**

"Yeah, I did. I'm glad you liked them." I watch him pet a small feather on the mask as if it was made of the most fragile of glass. His eyes are etched with sadness and there's a deep gloom surrounding him. "Heard rumor you were shipping out tomorrow. Can you tell me if it’s true?"

**John**

I set the mask back on the pillow beside me to it won't get harmed. "Promised Mum I'd give her til midnight tonight to find my partner from the Ball. When that doesn't happen, and I think we all know it won't happen, then I officially sign up with Sholto's crew and head back to the Desert for four years."

**John’s Mum**

"You promised you'd give this a chance, John," I scold lightly. I look at Greg. "I'm sure you understand my desperation to find this young man, Greg."

**John**

"I am trying Mum." My hopes have all been dashed but I made a promise and I will continue to play along.

**Greg**

"Why don't you all take a break. I'll have any possible candidates come back later so you don't have to be here for a while."

**John**

I take a bite of the biscuit and am blown away by the near perfectness off it. "Who made these? They're amazing."

**Greg**

"Mycroft Holmes' younger brother." __not meant for each other my arse__ "I believe he's with the soon-to-be-former Head of Security as we speak."

**John**

I make my way down the hall eating the biscuits and asking if anyone knows where Mycroft Holmes is. The moment I see him I remember the fight he and his lover had out by the fountain. __holy hell on high GREG is his lover__ I must look like a deranged fish with dark crumbs coming out of my mouth as I just stood there and stared.

**Mycroft**

I see Lord Watson approach, a look of shock on his face. "My Lord," I bow my head curtly. "I should have security straightened out shortly." He stares at me blankly. "Erm... is there a problem?"

**John**

"Hmm? Oh, uh, no. No problem. How are you?" I know I'm blushing but I can't stop thinking about his rather interesting discussion with a particular silver fox.

**Mycroft**

"Quite well, sir, thank you for asking." _Why is he acting so strangely? And blushing like that?_ "You look as though you came to discuss something with me. Did you have a particular security concern you'd like me to address?"

**John**

"Biscuit?" I hold out the tray but there's only one left so I hope he doesn't take it. "I was told you know the baker. Was hoping I could get more, maybe put in an order for something else."

**Mycroft**

I look at the biscuit, and my stomach growls. "No, I shouldn't, My Lord, it's your last one. You take it." I reply, trying not to sound disappointed. "I know the baker, do I?"

**John**

I grab the last biscuit before he can change his mind. "Only because you insist." Having nowhere to set the tray I look like an idiot with an empty plate in one hand and a biscuit in the other. "Greg, Lestrade? said your baby brother made them. I was hoping to put in a request for more. Is he here with you?" _seriously is there no place not covered in paper or electronics? I just want to set down a damn tray_

**Mycroft**

Having pity on him, I relieve him of the tray, setting it on a nearby chair for the moment. "No, my brother is at home. He is quite busy, though... I'm not sure he has time in his schedule for another project." _I really don't want to share Sherlock's baking skills, but how does one say no to a Lord?_

**John**

"So he lives with you? Your folks must be quite proud of his skills. I'm sure they won't mind me popping over for a bit and asking young...? To make a batch for a departing soldier. What's your brother’s name?"

**Mycroft**

"Our parents are long gone - I've been his sole family since he was 10 years old. I suppose he might be convinced to bake an extra batch for you, given your upcoming departure. His name is Sherlock. Here is our address." I scribbled our address onto a piece of paper.

**John**

"Ta." As I walk away I almost bump into Greg coming in. "Any contenders yet?"

**Greg**

"Sorry, no. Try to enjoy your time off." I see him furiously rubbing at something in his hand but before I can ask if I can help he has already walked away.

**Mycroft**

"Are you ready to get started, Greg?  I understand we are to use the drawing room for interviews, as needed.”

**Greg**

"Yeah. Just letting you know we're ready on our end. Did Lord Watson have security questions?" I take the tray out of Myc’s hand with the intention of dropping it off on my way back to the drawing room.

**Mycroft**

"No. He was asking about biscuits..." I eye Greg suspiciously. "Did you tell him my brother had baked some?"

**Greg**

"He very much liked the biscuits. Did he talk you into asking Sherlock to make more?"

**Mycroft**

"No, he wanted to ask him personally. Since his presence won't be required for a while, I gave him our address."

**Greg**

I bust out laughing. "Oh. Precious. That's just precious." I head out of the Security room before Mycroft can deduce the reason for my hilarity.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sherlock**

I've been making good progress on the cake that Mycroft requested _ordered_ , despite an earlier mishap with the flour. Seems in his haste to drown his sorrows in biscuits, he moved one of the flour containers, and when I opened that cabinet, it came tumbling out, getting flour everywhere - including on me. I managed to get most of it off my face and out of my hair, but it was a mess to clean up.  
  
I'm just about to put the cake into the oven when I hear the doorbell.

**John**

After I ring the bell I double check I have the right address. Yup. This is 221 Baker St. It’s a fairly normal building for this area of town. People on the street are starting to take a second look at me so I ring the bell again and knock hoping to be let in before the crowds discover who I am.

**Sherlock**

"One moment!" I holler down the stairs, quickly wiping my hands on my apron as I hurry down the stairs to the front door. _I wasn't expecting anyone today..._ I fling the door open and come face-to-face with Lord Watson. My eyes widen, and I freeze.

**John**

"Hello. Can I come in?" I push my way in and shut the door just as I hear someone shout 'hey!'. When I turn around I see the back end of the person who opened the door. Assuming they were heading towards a phone, to rightly call the Police on an intruder, I follow behind them. "I'm safe. I swear. I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't be outside any longer."

**Sherlock**

"I... um... I know who you are." My voice cracks, and my throat has suddenly gone dry. "My Lord." I bow quickly. _What the hell is he doing here? My mind reels in panic, and I plan to strangle Greg the next time I see him._

**John**

"Call me Joh---" When Mycs 'little brother' stands up I see instantly who it is. "William?"

**Sherlock**

I pale and look away quickly. "You must be mistaking me for someone else," I stammer, my voice faltering. "My name is Sherlock."  My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it from across the room.

**John**

"No. Ok, maybe yes. But you're also William." Why are we discussing this? It’s obvious he's William.

**Sherlock**

I start shaking my head and backing away. "I'm nobody."

**John**

I grab his wrist before he can back away right out the back door. "Stop it. This isn't funny William. Or is it Sherlock?"

**Sherlock**

"This wasn't supposed to happen." I blurt out in a panic. "You can't be with me. I left to keep either of us from getting attached..." _far too late, it seems_ "I didn't want to make you choose."

**John**

"You're an idiot." I pull him in to a hug. "I never thought I'd see you again. And then, the thing with all the fakes up at the Castle, and biscuits, and you're Mycroft’s little brother, and, wait." I let him go and back up a few steps. "You know about what's going on at the Castle, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

"Yes. Every man in the district is probably there, trying to make you think they are The Phoenix." I shake my head sadly. "I knew you wouldn’t find me, of course, but I guess I hoped you would find someone of a social standing that your family approved of."

**John**

"So, you knew about it? You knew I was looking for you? But you didn't go because you wanted me to find someone my family would approve of?" My relief had morphed to anger which was now morphing to dejection.

**Sherlock**

"I heard what you mother said. She's right - I'm not worthy of someone like you." I flop onto the sofa, unable to look him in the eye.

**John**

I sit next to him and lay my head back against the couch. "What do I call you? I would like to know which name is actually yours."

**Sherlock**

I chuckle nervously. "My first name actually is William, but I go by my middle name, Sherlock. My full name is William Sherlock Scott Holmes." I look at him. "You are angry with me."

**John**

"Yeah. A bit. Angry at you. Angry at my Mum. Mostly just angry at me." I put my arm over my eyes and try to force my body to relax. The pain in my leg starts acting up so I massage it a bit and repeat -it’s not real- in my head.

**Sherlock**

I look at him in surprise. "Why angry at yourself?"

**John**

"Cause I'm an idiot." As he straightens up a bit I grab his ankle and put his feet in my lap. "I didn't expect to find anyone, ever, and then I did. I found you. Then I lost you." My thumb strokes up and down his ankle. "And that should've been it. The end. But no, I mentioned I'm an idiot right. Instead I got my hope up that I'd find you, and I actually did. Just to realize you don't want to be found."

**Sherlock**

"But what about... what about your family? Your mother said..."

**John**

"I'm well aware of what my Mum said. If you had read the article you would've seen what else she said." I lift his feet just long enough to grab one of the tabloids that are on the table in front of me. "Let’s see... Here it is. Look, it’s even in big letters. -- ** _Lady Dove Watson requests that the Phoenix make himself known by coming to the Castle_**...-- It goes on but that part doesn't matter. What matters is that my Mum formally, publicly, asked for you to come back."

**Sherlock**

"But she made it very clear she does not approve of me... for all I knew, she was going to throw me in jail... or worse." I shrug. "Better I remain unknown, in that case, don't you think?"

**John**

"Did you really think that? That you were in danger?"

**Sherlock**

"The thought did cross my mind, yes." I reply sadly. "And I didn't want you to get hurt in the process."

**John**

"She won't ever hurt you. She was actually trying to make me happy. She had this absurd notion that maybe if she apologized you'd come back." I watch his eyes as we talk. No matter how silent he is being his eyes are telling stories. Sadly, I don't know how to read those stories.

**Sherlock**

I reach over and touch his shoulder. "I just want to be accepted... and to be able to be with you." I say quietly.

**John**

I lay my head on his hand. "You never were going to come say goodbye."

**Sherlock**

"Since my goal was not to hurt you, it seemed that 'goodbye' would be ill-advised." I let my hand linger on his cheek. "I've gone about this all wrong, haven't I? Forgive me..."

**John**

"No. It wasn't your fault." I take his feet off my lap and stand up. "I'll leave you be."

**Sherlock**

"NO!" I jump up from the sofa and throw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder. "Please stay..."

**John**

"Oomph." Due to his momentum I end up on my arse in an easy chair with six feet of Sherlock on top of me. At first, I can't seem to figure out what happened. "Should I be worried this is going to become a pattern?"

**Sherlock**

I look down at him with a big grin. "It's not really that awful, is it?"

**John**

I laugh at the seriousness of his question. "I don't know. Will you do this every time you want me underneath you?" My smile slips away, and my face reddens as I realise what I said could have many different meanings. "Crap. That's not what I mean. I meant... oh bugger."

**Sherlock**

Now we're both blushing. "Should I let you up, then?" I lean in and purr in his ear "Or can I keep you here a while?"

**John**

"We should put my Mum out of her misery." I stretch out my legs so that the foot rest comes up and we are as reclined as possible. "But that can wait."

**Sherlock**

"Agreed." I shift so that I'm curled up alongside him, my legs across his lap and my head resting near his shoulder.

**John**

I nuzzle into his hair. "What do I call you? William Sherlock Scott Holmes seems a bit long."

**Sherlock**

"Sherlock, please." I let my fingertips dance along his chest softly.

**John**

"Sherlock. Sherrrrr looooock. Shrlk. Shery. Locky. Hmm." I can feel his irritation like it was a viable thing oozing out of him. "I liked William. It’s a nice name." Best to know now if he'll be able to handle my, self-admittedly, terrible sense of humor. "Shhhhhhhllk."

**Sherlock**

I can only think of one way to shut him up - I turn his face toward me and press my lips to his.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**John**

His kiss is tentative either due to his inexperience or the thought I may not return it. I can help on both those accounts. I place my hand on his jaw and ease up on the pressure a bit as I tilt my head slightly. His body starts to relax against me again.

**Sherlock**

His response is most welcome, and a pleased little noise comes from me. My tongue nudges his lower lip, and his lips part.

**John**

Waiting to see how much he learned I allow him to lead the kiss. I respond eagerly with a moan and opening my jaw wider when he dips his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like tea and chocolate.

**Sherlock**

After leisurely exploring his mouth, our need to breath takes precedence and I pull away for a moment, my face flushed and pupils wide.

**John**

His eyes sparkle like they did when he ate that peach, its as if his eyes are saying 'this is a happy story?' His kiss plumped lips are better than I imagined they would be. As I go to kiss him again I am sprung by a spring. "Ouch." The offending piece of metal jabbed itself into my bad leg.

**Sherlock**

"I've told my brother this chair is in a sorry state..." I shake my head. Carefully, I unwind myself from him and get to my feet, pulling him up with me. "I think I have a better idea." Taking him by the hand, I lead him down the hallway to my bedroom.

**John**

"Mycroft is your brother." Wait. What? "MYCROFT is your brother. Mycroft! The bloke we watched fight with the other bloke, who turned out to be Greg my new PR man, about groping another bloke’s arse. That Mycroft. My new Security Chief." I fear my voice is hitting new records of hysterical highs. "Mycroft’s little brother is Sherlock who is William. Oh, gods, strike me here and now."

**Sherlock**

I pull him into my bedroom and close the door behind us. "If you want to continue, may I suggest we not talk about my brother right now?" I lean in to kiss him - more boldly than before.

**John**

I agree to his demand and shut up about who we saw and his relations. The room is mostly taken up with a double bed and books. I mostly let him lead matters as he seems to enjoy figuring out what he likes. I do take care of the little things like toeing off my shoes and tugging up on his shirt to untuck it from his trousers.

**Sherlock**

I make quick work of his shirt, my long fingers deftly freeing each button until finally I push the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. My breath catches when I see the scar on his shoulder, my fingers tracing over it lightly.

**John**

"Gun shot. Go on, touch it." Being under his curious stare is a bit more than a little tantalising. As he watches, I turn around so he can see the exit wound, as well as unbutton my trousers and shimmy out of them. Turning back towards him I hook my thumbs into the band of my pants and tug them down a smidge.

**Sherlock**

I smooth my hand over the scar tissue, then lower my lips to it, kissing softly over it, then up his neck. I catch his wrists, pulling them away from his waistband. "Allow me..." I whisper in his ear as his pants land in a puddle on the floor with his other clothing. I stand back a moment to admire his naked form - muscular, but not overly so, lightly tanned, and very aroused. I smile to myself.

**John**

"This work for you?" It's not until I let out my breath at his nod that I realise I'd been holding it. "Your turn." I get on his bed and back up til I'm leaning against the head board. As he starts to strip off his clothes I run my hand from my thigh to hip, then hip to abs, and from abs back down to thigh. Each pass bringing my hand closer to my full erection.

**Sherlock**

"Very much so." My voice rumbles as my clothing joins his on the bedroom floor. I climb onto the bed, almost cat-like in my movements, until I am straddling his thighs, my lips brushing his collar bone.

**John**

I bring a hand up to the back of his head and scratch his scalp as I push up to encourage him to kiss my neck as well. Since he's a bit taller than me, this position has some challenges. "William, stop, I want to move us."

**Sherlock**

"Sherlock, if you please." I mumble into his neck.

**John**

"Sherlock. Yes. Ok." He flops down on the other side of the bed dramatically. "Perfect." I then take the position he had moments ago. With me on top we are more lined up, which I show him when I thrust my hips into his as the same time that I bite gently on his neck.

**Sherlock**

"Mmmmm." I arch my back as he thrusts his hips against mine, our erections in perfect contact. My finger curl into his waist as I push back.

**John**

I put my hands on his shoulders loosely, so we can mildly rock against each other as we go back to kissing. I had allowed him to lead the kiss long enough, so I take control for a moment. I dip my tongue into his mouth then trail the tip along the roof of his palette. I tease it along the edge of his teeth before I withdraw to suck in his bottom lip and worry it gently. I try to keep track of what he responds best too but soon lose track as I get lost in sensation.

**Sherlock**

I squirm beneath his grasp, and manage to slip my hand between us, wrapping my long fingers around both our cocks as they rub together.

**John**

I stop our kissing for a moment, so I can gather up some saliva and lick a stripe up my hand. I add my wet palm to his hand pressing our dicks together. It's not much but even the small amount of a lube substance is better than dry. The feeling goes from good to great but we need something long-lasting.

**Sherlock**

The slight slickness of his wet palm feels divine, but I know a way it would be even better. With my free hand, I reach for my bedstand drawer, fishing around blindly until I find what I'm looking for. Pulling my hand from between us, I reach up to catch his lips again, popping the lube bottle open with one hand and pouring a generous amount into the other, warming it in my palm before reaching between us again. _Oh yes... this is MUCH better_

**John**

Our kissing is more like biting and nibbling and sucking of lips and tongue. I spread my legs a bit more so that our dicks are aligned as much as possible from tip down. His cock is long and lean like him, but with a bit of a curve upwards at the top. Mine is stout like myself, thick and solid. My own balls slap against his as I grind into his ministrations.

**Sherlock**

I'm gasping for breath, a familiar heat curling in my groin. "John, wait... I want..." I shiver as I thrust into our hands.

**John**

I stop moving the moment he says to wait. "Tell me Sherlock. What do you want?" He is still thrusting into his own hand and the sight is bloody fantastic. His naked body flushed, back arched, his hand on his cock, bottom lip being bite... "What my love?"

**Sherlock**

"I want... you. Please..." My voice trembles, both with need and the tiniest amount of fear. I hope beyond hope that my request is something he is agreeable to, that my inexperience won't frighten him away.

**John**

"You have me. However you want. Just tell me how." I run my hands up and down his sides. There's too many ways that request could be construed for me to hazard a guess.

**Sherlock**

It takes a moment for the thought to reach my lips. "Take me." I say breathlessly. "I want to feel you inside me."

**John**

I put my hands on my thighs and squeeze tightly. Tight enough that my knuckles go white and my nails make small breaks in my skin. "Are you sure, love? That's a lot. I want to, so much, but I don't want you to jump to anything." I put my hands back onto his sides and wait for him to look at me.

**Sherlock**

"Yes, I want it. Want you. Please." I whine.

**John**

I take his hands with mine. "And you'll have that sweetheart. Just relax for a moment." We both need a moment to calm down. "Do you want me to tell you what I'm going to do first? I'm sure you understand the basics, but the mechanics can be a bit... mechanical."

**Sherlock**

"I would appreciate the guidance, as I'm... well, I've never..." I blush furiously. "But I don't need a running narrative."

**John**

His words make me laugh. "Got it. No Doctor Watson. So I'll tell you what I'm going to do right before I do it but no narrative." My thumbs are stroking his knuckles and I can't stop thinking how did I get so lucky as to find him. Not just once, but twice. "I'll trust you to tell me if you need me to stop or slow down or if you just don't like something I'm doing." He nods an agreement. "I also -need- you to tell me when I do something you very much like. Will you do that love?"

**Sherlock**

"Yes, John." I gaze up at him. "I will do my best."

**John**

"Then. First thing I am going to do is put that beautifully long cock of yours into my mouth and give you the best blow job until you cum down my throat. It will help your body and mind relax so I can prep your lush arse to take me." He quickly goes from nodding along to huge open eyes. "Good. You are paying attention."

**Sherlock**

My cock jumps at his description of what he's planned. I stroke my hands up his arms, stopping at his shoulders and pulling his lips to mine for a bruising kiss.

**John**

"I'll take that as an agreement." My Doctor voice is telling me to be slow and gentle while my Soldier voice is telling me to _take take take_. "Let's take a shower first. You have one big enough for two?"

**Sherlock**

I consider a moment. "Mycroft won't be back for hours, yes?" John nods, slightly confused. "Then we will use the shower in his private bath. It's large enough for us both."

**John**

"Perfect." I get off the bed and help him up. I grab the lube before I follow him to Mycroft’s en suite.

**Sherlock**

I lead the way, opening the door to my brother's bedroom, which is practically opulent in comparison to my tiny room.

**John**

"His bathroom is the size of your bedroom." I bite my tongue to stop from asking questions about Mycroft and how he acts towards his younger brother. We can, and will, discuss it later. "Set the water to your preferred temp. I like my showers quite a bit on the hot side." Just having him in there with me will make it hot.

**Sherlock**

"All right" I reply, turning the taps on. I, too, prefer a steamy hot shower - especially when I manage to commandeer my brother's private sanctuary for it. Once the water's just right, I step under the spray, pulling John in with me.

**John**

I set the lube on the shelf and grab the body gel. I work it into a lather in my hands and then start to rub down his chest. "Gods you feel so good. How do you make such delicious sweets and still have a flat stomach? Not fair." I work my hands all over his chest and abs and nipples. I can feel the muscles loosen as I touch him.

**Sherlock**

I lean against the shower wall as his hands spread lather over me, closing my eyes in enjoyment. "My brother eats them all." I mumble in response to his question.

**John**

"Turn around, arms on the wall and lean your head against them." I gather up more gel and begin a standing massage on his neck. I'm leaned against him so I kiss his shoulders as I reach around and put some of the gel on his dick. A few slow strokes and he's as hard as he was back in the bed.

**Sherlock**

I do as I'm told, relaxing as he works the muscles in my neck and shoulders. I shiver as his lips graze over my shoulder, momentarily distracted from where his hands are until I feel him wrap his strong fingers around my cock. "Ungh... John..." I manage to say as my mind goes blank.

**John**

I stroke him a few more times then let it go. Both hands return to his back and I kneed into the muscles there as I work my way down. When I get to his arse I take my time rubbing it and marveling and the perkiness of it. "Michelangelo wouldn't have been able to depict an arse this perfect even in his wildest fantasies." I run my soapy hand between the middle of the cheeks.

**Sherlock**

Without thinking, I shift my feet further apart as his hands drift lower, rubbing over my arse and thighs all everything between them.

**John**

I grab a flannel to rinse all the soap off of him. I take my time making sure his penis is free of the gel as well. "First I'm going to lick that plump arse of yours, then I'm going to suck that long cock before I return to opening you up with my fingers and tongue."

**Sherlock**

His voice sends a jolt straight to my dick, and I shudder. "Please, John..." my voice trembles.

**John**

I grab the lube and slowly sink to my knees. I put a hand on each cheek and my thumbs in between them. As I pull my thumbs away from each other I am shown a view of his downy-covered opening and the back side of his balls. I tentatively lick at the opening a bit to see what his reaction is.

**Sherlock**

Leaning up against the wall, I'm pleasantly relaxed, almost drifting, when I feel his hands part me, and his tongue tease at the sensitive flesh. I jump in surprise. "Oh!" I freeze for a moment, and look over my shoulder at him.

**John**

"Good oh? Bad oh? Help me out here, love." When he doesn't respond immediately I get a bit nervous. "Want me to stop?"

**Sherlock**

"N-no... just surprised me. I wasn't expecting... that. Do continue..." I focus on relaxing against the wall again.

**John**

Taking him at his word I go back to small licks around his anus before putting a bit of lube on my fingers and rubbing them around the opening. "Turn around."

**Sherlock**

Ever obedient, I turn to rest my back on the wall, looking down at John on his knees before me. With one hand I stroke myself slowly while my other hand combs through his short blonde hair.

**John**

I look up at him and put my hand around his to lead the head of his penis into my mouth. I let go of his hand and suckle on the tip. The fingers of my other hand are back at his entrance. When he lets go of his cock I swirl my tongue around the head in the same pattern that my finger does at his anus. When I take more of his dick into my mouth I push the digit in. As I bob up and down my finger does as well. He thrusts into me and I greedy take it as I push more of my finger into him. I can almost see the light click on when he registers that my finger is following suit to what his penis does and that my mouth is willing for anything he wants to try.

**Sherlock**

I lean my head back with a groan as his tongue caresses my cock. I curl my fingers into his hair loosely and thrust deeper into his mouth, noting that his finger follows suit, thrust into me with as much vigor as I am working his mouth. It's an odd sensation - not uncomfortable, though.

**John**

As I add a second finger I hum around the head of his cock. I encourage him to set the pace by putting my hand on his hip and guiding him forward into mouth then back onto my fingers.

**Sherlock**

The second finger brings a whimper from my lips, and my knees wobble. My hips rock, my cock pushing to the back of his throat alternating with my arse pushing back on his fingers. His fingers press against my prostate, and my brain completely whites out with the sensation. "Oh, my God, John..." I gasp. "That... that's good." I did tell him I'd try to tell him what I liked.

**John**

I twirl my fingers and push pull them in and out a few times before I add more lube and attempt three fingers. I do a broad lick up the vein on the underside of his circumcised penis, followed by a few shallow dips of my tongue into the slit on the head. I'm not just trying to figure out what he likes but to keep him from focusing on any possible discomfort.

**Sherlock**

My knees are actually shaking now. "John... John... wait..." I pant. I have no confidence that I'll be able to stay on my feet any longer if he continues, and God, do I want him to continue. "Bed... please..." He smiles up at me and pulls his fingers away, eliciting a whine from me, and turns off the taps. With a last lick up my length, he gets to his feet. I attempt to step out of the shower, but these wobbly knees... I manage to tear the shower curtain off the rod.

**John**

I grab him before he hits the floor and carry him bridal style to the bed. I grab one of the small decorative pillows and place it under Sherlocks hips. I climb into the bed from the foot area and crawl between his legs. He opens to me freely as I run my hands up from his ankle to groin. "Would you believe me if I told you that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen?"

**Sherlock**

"I might question your visual acuity, actually." I laugh. "Or perhaps wonder if you'd ever seen yourself in a mirror." I shiver as his fingers dance up my inner thighs.

**John**

"Ah, I didn't think you would believe me, but you are the most beautiful sight in all of Creation." I lower down and nuzzle my cheek against his stomach. "And the way you taste?" I lick a flat stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. "Divine." Before he has a chance to respond I take a breath and take his penis all the way down in one go. When the head hits my throat I swallow around it.

**Sherlock**

"Fuck..." My eyes roll back as I arch my back, my fingers twisting in the bedsheets.

**John**

I put my hand on his hip just like I did in the shower and push pull a bit so he remembers he can control the depth and pace. With my other hand I go under his balls and insert on my middle finger into his prepared opening. It takes me only a moment to find his prostate and tap on it gently.

**Sherlock**

I relax into the familiar sensation of his finger pressing into me, trembling and writhing when he presses my prostate again. The warmth curling in my groin grows exponentially every time he does. _This won't last long..._

**John**

My eyes tear up as I take him as far down as possible. A long low moan comes out of me as I swallow him down. I add another finger to the one already toying with his prostate and rub a lazy circle pattern around the area.

**Sherlock**

His fingers tease around that perfect spot, and I writhe trying to get his fingers exactly where I need them. "So... close... please..." I beg.

**John**

I pull up until only a few inches are in my mouth. I scissor my fingers so that his prostate is being constantly stimulated. His body is starting to tremble in its voracious need to get off. I look up at his face and his pupils are blown so wide that his eyes almost look black. A brief image of a Demon with an Angel's Halo flashes across my mind. I want to whisper words of encouragement but more I want to taste him when he cums. All I can do for now is moan to show my appreciation of this experience.

**Sherlock**

His fingers found the exact right spot... finally. I gasp in relief, and I screw my head back into the pillows, crying out John's name with my release. My whole body is trembling as I become aware again, and I look down to see John staring back up at me with a smile.

**John**

As his body starts to settle I put one knee on my shoulder and position myself at his entrance. Just as his brain is coming back online I push into his arse. _FuckGodDamAllToHell_ His sphincter is still fluttering as I bottom out inside him. The rhythmic clenches do nothing to stave off my release. I grab the head board and thrust into him and slowly pull til I'm almost out then thrust in again. Soon his cock starts to reinflate and I pick up my pace. Before I get going too quick or hard I lean down and kiss him.

**Sherlock**

I reach up and cup his face in my hands as he kisses me, soft and slow. Every slick movement earns a whimper or moan from me. The fullness of him inside me is better than I ever could have imagined in my wildest dreams.

**John**

As his cock return to full hardness I stroke it counter rhythm to my thrusts. Just a few minutes have passed before I hike his other knee on my shoulder and start a deep and hard plundering of his arse. The sweat starts coming off me in tiny rivulets but I hold myself back. "Cum for me Sherlock. Love, I know you can."

**Sherlock**

I shudder, arching my back against his thrusts. My breath is coming in gasps as each thrust slams over my prostate, that sweet release getting ever closer, again. His words shatter what little control I had, and my mind reels as I cum, every muscle in my body tensing.

**John**

I finally give in to that all-powerful urge to let go. A few stuttered thrusts and I'm cumming inside the hottest tightest wettest every-good-thing-est arse ever created. A footnote from an anatomy book about _la petite mort_ is my first thought when I return to consciousness. "You killed me."

**Sherlock**

I chuckle lightly, stroking my hand across his back as he rests his weight on me. "And you me... twice. Quite impressive." I rub my cheek against his hair.

**John**

"I made a promise." My breath is ragged and my throat parched. "I need a nap. Are you ok?"

**Sherlock**

"Never been better." I whimper as he pulls out of me, and grabs a flannel from the bathroom to clean us both up. "And a nap sounds like an excellent idea." I say with a slightly sleepy grin.

**John**

"Wait. Has it been worse?"

**Sherlock**

"Everything is worse than this." I snuggle up against him.

**John**

I kiss his forehead. "You are a smart one. Sassy but smart." I don't wake up til sometime later and by then it will be too late.


	13. Chapter 13

**Mycroft**

The crowd has finally dwindled to a remaining few men, whom even I can tell do not meet the basic physical description of The Phoenix, so I walk to the drawing room where Greg has just finished with the last few. "Have we given up yet?" I ask wearily.

**Greg**

"I've scheduled a few to return tomorrow at 7am. Lord Watson leaves at 9am, assuming he doesn't find the guy." I hand the folder with the basic info of the twenty candidates to my new assistant. "Speaking of... Have you seen Lord Watson? He should've been back hours ago."

**Mycroft**

"I have not. That concerns me a bit, in fact..." _I know I'd given him my address... did he get lost? Or is Sherlock talking his ear off?_ "It can't have taken that long to get biscuits, even if Sherlock baked them from scratch when he arrived."

**Greg**

"Let’s go round to yours and see if he's there? We can get lunch while we're there." I grab my keys and we head out to the parking area.

**Mycroft**

"Fine. Let me check in with Lady Watson, and we can go." I walk down the hall to the dining room, where Lady Watson sits with several papers, tut-tutting over the articles. "Madame, have you seen your son?"

**John’s Mum**

"No, Mycroft, I haven't. He mumbled something about biscuits and left several hours ago. Why do you ask?"

**Mycroft**

"I... think I know where he's gone. Greg and I are going to go check on him, perhaps bring him back in time for dinner, if that's all right."

**John’s Mum**

"All right. Dinner is at 7, if you can manage it." I return to my paper.

**Mycroft**

I return quickly to the parking area, where Greg is waiting, engine running. "Let's go, then."

**Greg**

"Last night was nice. Thanks." We had ended up going out to drinks after 'making-up' all the way through dinner time. It was different to be seen in public with him. No, not actually seen with him, but him not being afraid to be seen with me. We both ran into friends and no one said anything. That's what was nice. We'd been seen, together, doing friend stuff, together, and nothing changed.

**Mycroft**

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I did, as well." I smile as I watched the scenery fly by as he drove. "We should do things like that more often. As our schedules allow, of course."

**Greg**

"Things will be tight for a while I suppose. Good thing we live close enough we can carpool to work." I let go of the stick and place my hand on his thigh. "We'll take turns driving." My pinky reaches just far enough to brush the outline of his cock.

**Mycroft**

I chuckle, and grab hold of his hand. "Pay attention to the road, Gregory..." I give his hand a squeeze. "Save that until after lunch, hm?"

**Greg**

"Pfft no fun." I pat his leg and return my hand to the shifter.

**Mycroft**

"I promise to make it worth your while later." I grin as we pull up to my house. I get out and open the front door. "Sherlock?" I call out. No answer.

**Greg**

I follow him inside and head towards the kitchen to make lunch. "Hey, Myc, c'mere." The kitchen is messier than I've ever seen it. A mostly baked cake is still in its pan on the stove top and the back door is propped open a bit.

**Mycroft**

I look at the kitchen in abject horror. "Sherlock knows better than to leave the kitchen in this condition," I snarl. "Where the hell is he? SHERLOCK!" I start into the living room. My recliner is mostly reclined, and several springs have torn through the seat fabric - it's ruined. I'm getting angrier by the second.

**Greg**

"Myc, wait." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. We need to be calm. He could be in danger. Do you have a gun in the house?"

**Mycroft**

"No, of course not. Why would someone break in here? Especially with my brother here?

**Greg**

"Maybe they broke in to get at Lord Watson... Shh." Though the few people who know Sherlock would not necessarily mind him getting hurt they definitively are not the type to do it themselves.

**Mycroft**

My anger at my brother is now tempered by concern for Lord Watson, who is now my responsibility. "We don't know for certain Lord Watson even came here, you know." I say in a quiet voice. "He could have been intercepted en route."

**Greg**

Mycroft grabs an umbrella from near the door and starts up the stairs. I make a detour to the kitchen for a knife then follow him.

**Mycroft**

I creep up the stairs toward my bedroom, to find the door slightly ajar. I know I closed it this morning when I left.

**Greg**

Tapping Mycroft on the shoulder I mime if he wants me to check Sherlock’s room or follow him to his. With a nod from him I head off down the hall.

**Greg**

The moment I see clothes all over the usually fastidiously neat room I know what's going on but not where.

**Mycroft**

I push my bedroom door open with the tip of the umbrella, peeking in around the edge of the door. I scowl - my beautiful lace shower curtain is strewn across the floor just inside. I step over it, and creep into the room, to find my brother's tell-tale dark curls sticking out from under the duvet. "SHERLOCK! What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

**John**

I jump out of the bed fully prepared to defend us from an intruder. All I see at first is a tall man with a weapon. After launching myself on top of the threat I disarm him and pin him to the ground with a knee to his kidney and arm twisted behind his back.

**Greg**

I run to Myc’s room in time to see Lord Watson powerhouse Myc to the ground. I fall to the ground laughing like a maniac.

**Sherlock**

I wake to a commotion in the room. I sit up, bleary eyed, to see John pinning my brother to the ground. "John, you should probably let him up, since this is his room, after all..."

**Greg**

  1. Can't. Stop. Laughing. "Sold. Soldier 1. Sec. Security Chief 0."



**Mycroft**

Lord Watson lets go of my arm, and gets to his feet, offering me a hand to get up as well, which I refuse angrily. "What the fu... what is going on, My Lord?"

**John**

As I stand I become aware of my completely nude state. I grab the nearest pillow and cover my cock. "Oops?"

**Sherlock**

"Obviously, brother, we were sleeping in it." I roll my eyes at Mycroft, and toss one of my brother's fancy dressing gowns to John so he can cover himself.

**Greg**

I pull Mycroft out of the room, so the new couple can get dressed without an audience. As I wipe tears from my eyes I escort him to the kitchen. "Tea, love?"

**Mycroft**

"But... what..." I sputter as Greg drags me out of the bedroom.

**Sherlock**

"Sorry about that, John. My brother is an idiot."

**John**

I leave the bedroom, sans another man’s dressing gown, but return shortly with our clothes. "Least I won't need to call the PR Rep to smooth this over." I give Sherlock a kiss as I hand him his clothes.

**Sherlock**

I take the clothes he hands me, and set them on the edge of the bed. "I shudder to think what Mycroft might be thinking right now..."

**John**

I zip up my trousers as I ponder the statement. "Getting a new job probably." A flicker of anger passes in Sherlock's eyes. "No. No no no. He's not getting fired. But he may quit." I button up my shirt but seemed to have forgotten my shoes. "Will you be getting dressed?" It’s hardly appropriate to walk around in a sheet. Even in one’s home. I hoist him up and start making the bed as best as possible. The pillow... I'll replace that.

**Sherlock**

I drop my eyes, looking a bit sad. "I hope he doesn't quit. He'll be angry with me again."

**John**

Sherlock looks so sad so I kiss him again, a bit longer this time. "Then we simply won't let him quit. I'll have Mum issue a Royal Decree that he stay put." This brings a small smile to my lover’s face. "Is he often mad with you?"

**Sherlock**

"Only when I don't do as I'm told. Or when I waste time talking to people when I go to the market on Thursday. He's always in such a hurry when we do the shopping."

**John**

"Are you not allowed to shop alone? Or talk to people? What the hell is wrong with him?" I start to get angry remembering all the things Sherlock has alluded to about his brother. __Maybe I will fire him. I can't. That would upset Lock.__

**Sherlock**

"He's just being protective. If I need to leave the house, he always comes along. Or makes sure someone is with me, like Greg sometimes." I reach for my shirt and slowly start to dress as I talk. "Mummy used to take me to do her shopping..."

**John**

"I am almost afraid to ask, but why?" Something starts to wiggle in the pit of my stomach. Fear I've taken advantage of a person who may not be able to have made an informed consent. "Not allowed or don't want to?"

**Sherlock**

"Don't really want to. The last time... went badly." I refuse to meet his eyes.

**John**

"What happened?"

**Sherlock**

"I was much younger - it was not long after Mummy and Father died. I decided to impress my brother by taking care of the shopping while he was at work. I was on my way home with the week's shopping, and a group of kids struck up a conversation with me. The longer we talked, the ruder they became to me. I got a bit scared, tried to get away from them, but they managed to corner me. The hospital had to call Mycroft at work to come get me."

**John**

"Jesus fucking Christ! Are you ok? Did they hurt you permanently?"

**Sherlock**

"No, just bruises, a broken rib, and a terror of groups of people." I laugh weakly. "Since then, I pretty much stay here, except when Mycroft takes me somewhere."

**John**

"So you can go out but you choose not to?" My fear of his ability to consent are laid to rest. Now my heart is heavy knowing that he lives in fear of people. "How were you able to talk yourself into going to the Ball?"

**Sherlock**

"Well, Greg helped... convinced me that I could do it, I guess. Being anonymous helped. I just didn't want Mycroft to find out I was there. He would be very upset with me."  I stand up and finish dressing. "And once I was there, chatting with you put me at ease, too."

**John**

"Remind me to thank Greg for talking you into it." I pat down his shirt and attempt to tame some errant curls. "Life as a Lord's spouse will be filled with crowds. Will that be a deal breaker?"

**Sherlock**

I look at him, wide-eyed. "Spouse?"

**John**

"That -was- the whole reason behind the Ball if you recall. Don't worry, the average engagement lasts at least a year."

**Sherlock**

I'm still staring at him in shock. "After all that, after knowing what you know, you still want me?  Why?"

**John**

"Because you're you. You're possibly the smartest person I've ever met. The way you eat peaches is pornographic. The biscuits were amazing and I do believe I was promised a pie."

I look at him carefully, his eyes still sad and a bit worried.  "Does Mycroft ever hurt you?"

**Sherlock**

"Hurt me? No, not really. He just yells at me a lot."

**John**

"I see." I look at his chest, pretending to straighten his lapels. "Does he ever hit you? Why does he yell?"

**Sherlock**

"He yells at me because I'm frustrating." I look down. "But hit me? No, he doesn't do that."

**John**

"How are you frustrating? Besides running away... Or avoiding answering questions... Or... Never mind." I'll take this up with Mycroft later.


	14. Chapter 14

**Mycroft**

I am sitting at the kitchen table as Greg chuckles to himself, putting the kettle on to boil. I am thoroughly confused by what I just saw. _Sherlock... and Lord Watson? Really?_

**Greg**

I bring Myc over tea with a splash of Brandy. "Need to talk?" I bite the inside of my cheek and pinch my thigh to keep from laughing.

**Mycroft**

"What do you find so funny, Greg?" I glare at him.

**Greg**

I ignore his question for the delay tactic that it is. "Did you really not know our Sherlock was his William?"

**Mycroft**

"Sherlock _hates_ crowds, Greg. Of course I didn't think he would be at the ball. Hell, I didn't think he'd WANT to be there." I look into my tea. "I didn't tell him about it because I didn't want to have to babysit him the whole time."

**Greg**

My jaw drop open at his obvious annoyance. "He's your brother, Mycroft. He gets fearful of crowds and he has a damn good reason. He's been left alone most of his life. It's a wonder he hasn't shut himself in completely." I slam my fist down on the table. "You are his Brother! You're all he has left of blood family and he's all you got left. I get that it's hard raising a kid, a kid too damn smart and one that tells strangers exactly what he's thinking but you gave up fairly early." I grab his cup and head to the kettle. "Just for the record -I- was the one that talked him into going. -I- gave him the mask and the jacket. -I- even drove him there."

**Mycroft**

"Why would you do that to him?" I snarl. "Have you ever dealt with a panic attack? It was hard enough to manage when he was a child, but now... I don't know that I can anymore. And I have been dealing with his idiosyncrasies a hell of a lot longer than you have. Our parents never dealt with him properly, figured he'd outgrow his social awkwardness. Lucky them - they didn't see themselves proved wrong."

**Greg**

My righteous anger starts to fade. "I've been around him since he was 15, Myc. I've dealt with the panic. I've also been there to help him through his recovery from the attack. Remember that. I've been there." Since the day I found him, bloody, torn up, helpless, I've done my best to get as close to him as he will let me be. "He's been doing so good. I thought maybe being able to hide behind a mask would make it easier."

**Mycroft**

"Well, this is what's come of it. Now he's gotten himself... involved. I wonder if Lord Watson really understands what he's in for, getting involved with someone like my brother."

**Greg**

I walk over to Mycroft and put my arms around his shoulders. "Ever think, maybe, they'd be good for each other? Lord Watson was so smitten he was willing to go back to Hell if he had to live without him."

**Mycroft**

I huff. "He might not be getting shot at as often, but being around my brother long enough isn't much better." I get up from my seat, shrugging his arms off. "And then there's the matter of finances. That will be complicated..."

**Greg**

"I've never understood why your folks did that. Right pissy of them." I start doing a basic cleanup of the kitchen. "What were they thinking?"

**Mycroft**

"Sherlock was immature. It made sense to make me trustee of the estate until he was 25. As I said, they thought he would outgrow his ... issues. He has not, and I don't expect he will."

**Greg**

"But why does everything pass down to him then? Why did they leave nothing to you but a stipend for 'keeping tabs' on him? It's like they're paying you to spy on him."

**Mycroft**

"My parents had faith in my ability to be gainfully employed. Not so with my brother. Of course, he was too young for them to make the assumption."

**Greg**

"Yeah, well, whatever. You parents were right crazy." Hearing the boys coming down the stairs I prepare another cup of tea and grab the makings for a hot chocolate.

**Sherlock**

I come down the stairs, my arms full of Mycroft's bedding. After getting the laundry started, I walk quietly into the kitchen and take a seat at the table.

**John**

I take the tea from a smiling Greg. "Not funny." I talk softly so I can hear what Sherlock and Mycroft are saying. I have a feeling Greg and I will get along great.

**Greg**

"Nah, mate. It’s down-right hilarious."

**Mycroft**

"What were you thinking, brother?" I hiss.

**Sherlock**

I wince at his tone, even though he's speaking quietly. He's the only man I know who can yell at you without raising his voice. "I... I am unhappy. I wanted to try to meet people again. Greg offered to help." I look up at him with pleading eyes. "He would have brought me back straight away if things had gone poorly."

**Mycroft**

"Greg was spending his time chasing after me... he wasn't paying any attention to you." I scold him. "And you chose not to inform me you were there, so I couldn't have helped either. You put yourself at risk. That cannot happen again, Sherlock."

**Sherlock**

"But I -"

**Mycroft**

"No buts. Not again. Ever." _Sherlock does not realize that a good portion of my financial standing at the moment depends on him. I remain the trustee of the Holmes' estate until he turns 25 or marries. So long as I am trustee, the generous stipend I am granted will continue, and to be honest, I've grown accustomed to the lifestyle it affords me. Sherlock doesn't want for anything, and my needs are more than met._

**John**

Sherlock slumps down in the chair looking more contrite than the situation calls for. Greg hands me the cocoa and I head over to him. "Here love." I sit down so I'm in between Lock and Mycroft. Greg sits across from me. "Look. I don't know what the problem is but it stops now. Got it?" I look at Mycroft who has a bit of a sneer on his face.

**Mycroft**

I sit up a bit straighter. "There is no problem, My Lord. Is there, brother?"

**Sherlock**

I shake my head silently.

**Greg**

Having seen all this posturing before I just roll my eyes and sit back.

**John**

"You honestly think I'm that stupid?" I look back and forth from the brothers. "I know a fight when I see one. Even a silent one. And I know a bully too." I look directly at Mycroft now. "Tell me what's really going on. The whole story."

**Mycroft**

"Respectfully, My Lord... I don't see how this is your concern. It's a family matter."

**John**

"We'll be family soon enough. Tell me."

**Mycroft**

"What are you talking about?"

**John**

"Seriously?? Does no one remember the reason for the Ball??"

**Greg**

I cough on my tea when it hits me. I force out words between coughing spells. "Marriage. Spouse. Lord. Sherlock." _Lord Sherlock_ The very idea has me laughing. Laughing and coughing at the same time has an interesting effect on one’s bladder so I excuse myself quickly.

**Mycroft**

"You can't be serious. You want to marry my brother?"

**John**

"I've had enough of that from both of you. Why is it so unbelievable that I want Sherlock?? He's no more broken then a wounded ex-Doctor Soldier with shaky hands and a psychosomatic limp."

**Mycroft**

"But... you CAN'T..." The pitch of my voice almost sounds like panic.

**John**

I fold my arms across my chest. "I can and I will." I unfold and reach out to take Locks hand. "Go get what you'll need for a few days while your brother and I talk. We'll send someone for the rest of your belongings later."

**Sherlock**

I start to get up from the table, when Mycroft catches my hand.

**Mycroft**

"You're leaving, then? Running off with the first person you meet? I can't protect you if you leave..."

**Sherlock**

"I... I don't need you to protect me anymore, brother." With that, I pull my hand away and head upstairs to gather some things.

**Mycroft**

I slump back into my chair, head in my hands, looking defeated.

**John**

"You're still going to see him. He'll be at the Castle that you're head of Security at. Is there something you're not telling me?"

**Mycroft**

I pale. "N-no, My Lord." I stammer.

**John**

Greg comes back and sits down. "As my PR Manager, and hopefully friend, is there anything about my future husband and his family I should know about?"

**Greg**

I look from Myc to John and back. "Not my story to tell. You'll just have to find out ‘bout your new relations like any other in-law would."

**Sherlock**

I return to the kitchen carrying a small satchel in one hand and a few books in the other. "I am ready, John."

**John**

I grab the books from Lock and lead him out towards the car. Before we have a chance to get in we are surrounded by press. I gather Lock as close as possible and we finally enter the vehicle. "I mentioned crowds, yeah?" I put the car in gear and head back to the Castle. "Can't wait to tell Mum I found you. She'll have me call Sholto immediately."

**Sherlock**

"Who is Sholto?" I ask as we wind through the village.

**John**

"My old Commander. When Mum drove you away I called him and he said he'd put me back to work. I took his offer, thinking I'd never see you again. I was wrong so now I'll have to call him and tell him I can't."

**Sherlock**

"You would give that up? For me?"

**John**

I glance at him but need to keep my eyes on the road. "It’s time I took up the role of Lord. With you by my side I won't feel stuck or useless."

**Sherlock**

I smile to myself, almost giddy.

**John**

"Why so happy?" We pull through the gates of the Castle and I escort him inside.

**Sherlock**

"I don't think I've ever made anyone feel so... so confident. So happy." I smile. "I must admit, I like the feeling."


	15. Chapter 15

**John’s Mum**

I look up as John walks into the dining hall, a tall young man following him. "John! Where have you been, my boy? I was beginning to worry..."

**John**

I hug my Mum and give her a quick twirl. "I found him. Mum, this is Sherlock, aka Phoenix, aka William." I take Lock's hand as I introduce him to Mum. "Lock, this is my Mum, Lady Dove of Clan Watson."

**Sherlock**

I bow deeply. "It is a pleasure to meet you, officially this time." I smile at her.

**Harry**

"Oy. And I'm chopped liver." I drag my wife along to where my family is chatting. "And this is my wife, Mrs Chopped Liver."

**Sherlock**

I bow to John's sister and her wife. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Harriet, and ... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, madame?" (Claire) "It's Claire. We would stay to chat, but we're on our way out for the evening." I pull Harriet along behind me, heading toward the car.

**John**

"You remember Harry I'm sure. Her wife's a sweetheart. You'll get along with her just fine." Lock and Harry have the makings to be vinegar and baking soda. Fine on their own but when you mix the two... Boom.

**Sherlock**

"Where should I put my things, John?" I ask quietly, trying to avoid looking at his mum. I can tell by her body language that while she's being supporting of John, she's not sure if she likes me or not.

**John**

"I'll take you to my rooms. Mum, we'll see you at diner." I'll need to arrange to get the rest of his stuff. Oh... "How do you feel ‘bout asking your new employee, who happens to head Security, to get your things for you?" I ask with a smirk.

**Sherlock**

I cough. "Oh, that would be a horrible thing to do to him... I can't do that to him."

**John**

"Hmm. If it was my sister I would." As we head down the hall I point out which doors lead to who's suites. "And this, my love, is ours." I open the door to a three-room suite with deluxe en suite.

**Sherlock**

"Your sister isn't Mycroft. He may have a temper, and may treat me harshly, but he does care." I set my satchel on the bed in the main room - obviously John's bedroom.

**John**

I snort at his fairly apt interpretation of my sibling relationship. "Harry's a mean drunk. Mean sober too. Mum acts like a ... Let's just say she's all growl and only a little bite."

**John’s Mum**

"I heard that, young man." I walk into John's suite with a slight grin. "I will have Maria set up a bed for Sherlock in your parlour, if you'd like, John."

**John**

I wipe at the back of my neck as Mum chastised me. "Just pointing out you won’t be killing him anytime soon. And don't bother Maria, he'll be sleeping with me.

**John’s Mum**

"No, I don't think so, John." I huff. "It wouldn't be proper. You have the space - he can sleep in the parlour."

**John**

"Really Mum? You'd have him sleep in a crap cot in a cramped parlor instead of with his fiancé?" I appeal to her more practical side.

**John’s Mum**

"There will be a bed set up in the parlour." I reply firmly. Then in a quieter voice, "I don't police whether it's been slept in, though." With a knowing grin, I turn to leave the room. I stop in the doorway. "Welcome to the family, William."

**John**

I follow her to the door and lock it once she's on the other side. "This is it. This is us. Welcome Home, Love."

**Sherlock**

I'm standing at the foot of the bed, staring at him blankly as he approaches. When he's within reach, I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. "Thank you." I whisper in his ear.


	16. Chapter 16

\---- Epilogue ----

Lord John Watson and William Sherlock Scott Holmes were married the following spring, amid much fanfare and celebration.  Under John’s patient care, Sherlock flourished, and made frequent public appearances, both with John and on his own.  Lady Watson and her daughter-in-law Claire loved him for his honesty and wit, and Harry, for the most part, tolerated him as much as she tolerated anyone.

After some research, John discovered the financial control that Mycroft had over Sherlock.  While it angered him, he ensured that Mycroft’s financial concerns were alleviated, and he was able to continue to live in the style to which he was accustomed, all while keeping Sherlock out of it entirely. 

Mycroft Holmes and Greg Lestrade continued working at the castle in security and public relations, respectively, and were more often than not seen together in town.  While neither was particularly marriage-minded, it was common knowledge that they were a couple, and although they both insisted otherwise, they were exclusive.


End file.
